Independence Came Calling
by SpiderFangWolverine123
Summary: Sequel to Extra Passenger, though it doesn't follow up on some of the same characters. Sam and Dean pick up another stray, this one with a past of fear and pain. Can the boys help her as they helped Fang? What does she have to do with the School? And what the heck is with those cat eyes? Rated M for some coarse language and mentions of abuse.
1. Freedom

**Hey, guys! I decided to revisit this story, fix up a few things. I won't change any major plot points or anything, just make it easier to read. So just be forewarned, if you're reading this for a second time (which would be awesome) it might read a little different.**

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**Abby's P.O.V. **

I wake to an awful crashing sound, harsh and sudden against the otherwise silent night. I open my bleary eyes, the room still pitch black around me. I sit up and freeze when the shackle around my wrist clanks against the cold metal floor. I pull my legs up close to my chest, the thin rag serving as my only protection against the chilly floor bunching up under my knees.

"Damn it, Dean!" I hear a loud whisper from only a few feet away. I lean up against the glass walls of my cage, listening.

"Could you be more of an uncoordinated oaf?" The same person, a male with a deep voice.

"Could you be more of an ass, Sam?" Another male voice, lighter than the first. What are they doing here? Tom shouldn't have brought them here. It's past open hours, and he doesn't keep his museum open all night. And right now, it's obviously the middle of the night. They shouldn't be here.

"What the hell are we looking for?" Sam says in a harsh whisper.

"The Bone Hand of Zenith." The older one, Dean, whispers back. "People have been getting mysteriously strangled once they touch it. Hours later, at their homes, on their way to work."

What the heck are these yahoos talking about? They're crazy.

"What, and you didn't think that would be good for me to know on the way here?" Sam gripes.

"You never asked." Dean shoots back. Sam huffs, and I hear his footsteps a few feet in another direction.

"Hey." Sam whispers. "I found it." I hear footsteps rushing towards me, and I shrink back into the furthest corner of my cage. The footsteps stop a few feet away from me.

The men have their flashlights off, but I feel my eyes change, and I begin to see them clearly, even though it's dark and a thin sheet covers my glass cage. The room pops into clear definition, and things come into blissful clarity. There is a tall man, with longer hair. The other one has short hair and is smaller in stature than the first man. It's impossible to make out facial features through the thin sheet, but although their voices were harsh and angry to one another, they were almost...kind. Warm, in some way.

"So how do we get rid of this cursed object?" Sam asks, staring at a blurry display case on one of the shelves. The antique bone hand that Tom is constantly bragging and raving about. Daring people to touch.

"Thankfully, we can burn this one." What? Tom would hate it if they burned something here. Especially one of his prized possessions. He'll notice. He'll think I did it. I swallow my dread and scoot forward slightly, squinting through the haze to make out anything more. Sam starts poking a small metal sliver into the lock on the display case. In a minute or two, the door pops open, and he reaches inside with a cloth wrapped around his hand. He pulls out the hand and sets it gingerly on the floor, as if it were a bomb ready to explode. Dean tosses a live lighter on top, after squirting a dash of clear liquid over the pile of bone and cloth. Surprisingly, the bone hand catches fire quickly and burns even faster. There isn't even time for smoke.

The two men turn their flashlights back on, and turn towards my cage. The beam of their flashlights turn my vision white and I turn away, cringing against the glare. I blink a few times and gradually feel my eyes shift back to normal.

"Great, so that's done. Can we head to a bar now? I need a beer." Dean says.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam mocks, false sympathy bleeding from his tone. "Was the ten minute research session and five minute hunt for a nearly harmless hand too tough for you?"

"You know, it must have been dealing with you all day that took it out of me," Dean snaps back, lightly pushing his brother.

They walk up to my cage, and seem to just be passing by when one set of footsteps slows to a halt. The other continues, but the other just stands there, as if waiting for something. I quietly retreat back to the safe corner of my cage, hunching down. My heart pounds fearfully. It's like I can feel his stare penetrating through the sheet and glass and bars, staring right at my face. And I know which one it is.

"Wow," Sam comments quietly. "This thing is locked up pretty tight."

"Yeah, Sammy, people do that to valuable things. You know, when they don't want them stolen." Dean says dismissively, his footsteps stopping further away. "We should go. The less time we spend in view of the cameras, the better."

His words echo in my head. _People do that to valuable things. _Tom says I'm valuable. He says I'm very important, that he needs me. I know I earn him lots of money. I'm one of the main attractions. People would travel hundreds of miles, pay any price, just to stare at the freak of nature in Tom's Oddity Museum.

"Almost everything in here is valuable, Dean." says Sam. "He hasn't locked anything else up like this one is. And what's with the sheet?"

"C'mon, College Boy, even I know sunlight damages expensive crap." Dean scoffs impatiently. "Can we go now? Or would you rather keep debating until the cops show up?"

"I just want to...check," Sam says absently, and his shadow falls over the door of my cage. My heart is in my throat, making it hard to breath. He can't find me. It's not right. No one can find me. Not here. They can't.

Metal clicks, and I picture Sam sticking the metal rod into the padlock on my door, fiddling with it until it pops open, like magic. I hear I lock click and the door slowly swings open. I swallow, my eyes wide, silent gasps painful in my chest from the effort of staying quiet. Sam ducks down to peer in and shines a flashlight into the small space.

I throw a hand up to cover my eyes, turning my head from the bright light. I hear a clatter as the light disappears, bringing back the blissful darkness.

"Shit!" Sam yells. I hear a thump as Dean whacks him on the back of the head, and I absently notice that he made his way back over to us. I wish he hadn't.

"Shut your pie hole, idiot." He crouches down next to Sam. "What did you find?"

Without saying a word, Sam shines the flashlight back on me. I whimper and squint against the light.

"What the- Is that a _human?_" Dean whispers. Sam nods. I breathe quietly, hoping they'll just leave. I'm going to be in enough trouble as it is when Tom sees the popped lock. And the missing hand. _I'm going to be punished so badly._ My hands go cold with fear as the thought runs through my head.

"We have to get her out of here." Sam whispers. Dean groans quietly.

"Dean, we can't leave her here. What do you think he's already done?" Sam says convincingly.

Dean sighs. "I don't want to think about it," He admits, a disgusted tone in his voice. I glare defiantly back at him, hiding my anxiety. Tom never did anything to me. He hit me. But only when I did things I wasn't supposed to. Only when...when he had to.

"Right." Sam looks at me. "Hey." I stare back silently, frozen in a state of near denial. How can I fix this? How can I just make them go away? Before I can think of a solution, Sam ducks into the mouth of the cage, and suddenly, I can't think at all.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Sam says reassuringly. His words sound true, but I know that they aren't. Lies. He beckons to me, and I cringe away, shaking my head frantically. I can't leave. He'll know, he'll find me, and he'll punish me so bad. I can't leave. I can't leave. _I can't leave. _

"It's okay. You're safe. We can get you out of here." He lies gently. He hesitates, watching me shake my head tearfully, before cautiously reaching for my leg. I jerk away, shaking violently and wishing I wasn't.

Dean sighs. "Sam, get out of her space."

"But Dean-"

"No buts, get out."

Sam hesitates for a moment, then backs out of the cage. Dean takes a turn crouching down, but he stays outside of the cage, so I don't feel so trapped. I watch him carefully, waiting for his move.

"Listen, we're on a tight schedule, and we don't have a lot of time." Dean says. "You gotta come out, _now_." He says the last word firmly, and I wince. I would recognize an order anywhere. His cool detachment, his clear words, they're easy for me to understand. He wants me out of the cage. The only problem would be that my arm is shackled with a lock that can't be opened without a key. Unless you have a magic metal rod, I suppose.

"Dean, stop it." Sam protests. "You're only going to freak her out more."

Dean holds up a hand to the other man, and raises his eyebrows at me. I start coming forward, slowly, keeping my eyes on the ground. The chain is long enough that I can make it to the mouth of the cage before it stretches taut. I scoot forward until I can go no further. Dean reaches for my hand, and I lean away from him as the shackle clinks. And then it falls open, and cool air washes over my sore wrist for the first time in almost three days.

Once the shackle is off, Dean takes my arm and pulls me up. I'm wearing nothing but my tank top and shorts, so he leans into the cage for a moment to pull out the thin blanket Tom put in there as a makeshift mattress of sorts. Dean drapes it around my shoulders and looks at me intently.

"Keep quiet, okay? We're going to walk out of here, and you are going to come with us." His words are firm, but his tone is kind. I stare up at him in confusion, blinking uncertainly.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam glares at his brother. I feel the tension and anger coming off of him in waves, and I cringe away, remembering the same emotions that I sensed from Tom. He's mad. Like Tom is before he hits me. Dean stares back calmly, nothing but icy certainty emanating from his eyes. He still has one hand wrapped around my arm, holding me aloft as my legs tingle from their first use in days.

"Sam, I'll explain later." Dean says, staring right back at him. "Can you trust me for now?"

Sam huffs, but doesn't say anything more. Dean starts to walk me through the museum, moving slowly and carrying most of my weight. We walk past rows and rows of old relics, pictures of other circus freaks and past "specimens" of Toms. I keep my eyes on the floor and look at none of them.

As we near the front door, I get more and more nervous. I can't leave. I know that's what they want, but I'm not allowed to. Tom would kill me. Dean keeps a firm grip on my arm as he heads toward the front door. He wants me to leave. I can't. Some part of me yearns to, but everything else rears back, away from what's been forbidden from me.

When we reach the threshold of the museum, I freeze. Dean, although he could have carried me out himself, feels me stop and halts with me. He looks down on me sternly.

"It's time to leave. Right now." He says, and as I stare at the door, I can hear the part of me screaming for freedom. For the liberty to run as far and as fast as I can. But I can't leave. I glance down at the floor, Tom's words ringing in my head.

_You leave, ever step foot outside this place, and I'll know. I'll know where you are, and how to get there, within seconds. I'll find you, and I will teach you a lesson that you will never forget. _

"Dean, look at her ankle," Sam states. He had been staring at the floor, and his gaze had turned to my shoeless feet, to the small metal band encircling my left ankle.

Dean looks at Sam. "You think it's an electric collar?" He guesses. Sam hesitates, looking carefully. Slowly, he shakes his head. "I think it's more likely a tracker. It looks like it's welded there, though, so unless you can find a crack or something…" His voice trails off doubtfully.

Dean kneels on the floor by my feet. He takes out a knife, and my breath quickens in response. I feel a hand touch my shoulder, and I jerk away, my nerves on fire. I lunge away from them, tripping and ending up sprawled on the floor. I turn over, skittering back on all fours, staring at the knife in Dean's hand. Shining, sparkling, slicing metal.

"Stop," Dean says. I freeze. He has both hands up, and it looks vaguely like a gesture of surrender. He thumbs the blade, and it tucks into the handle, turning from a weapon of pain into a simple, harmless metal object.

"Come here." Dean says firmly. Obediently, I push myself unsteadily to my feet and walk over to them. I stand, staring at the floor, bracing myself for the blow. But it doesn't come.

Dean kneels down again. He takes out his knife, and looks up at me.

"I won't hurt you. Don't move." He glances over at Sam. "Don't touch her." Sam looks away.

I look at the far wall, pretending that I'm somewhere else, and none of this is happening. I can feel the metal band on my ankle shifting, can hear Dean muttering quietly under his breath. Finally, I hear a loud snap, and Dean stands triumphantly, holding the band in his hand, now split in two pieces.

I feel unexpected tears well up in my eyes. I now truly have no idea what is happening. Staring at the open door, I no longer feel freedom calling for me. I only hear chaos and confusion. My life was hell, but at least I knew what was going on. With Sam and Dean, I don't have a clue. I'm lost. I don't like feeling lost.

"Let's go." Dean says. He takes hold of my arm again, and looks me in the eye, nodding toward the door. I walk numbly, still shaken from the loss of my anklet. Dean reaches above my head, pushing the door open. I step over the doorframe, my foot landing on cement, cooled by the night air. Loose pebbles prick my feet and toes. I look up at the dark sky, sparkled with stars. I open my mouth, drawing in a breath of fresh air for the first time in eight years. Dean carefully lets go of my arm, taking a step back and letting me be alone in this moment.

I look at Sam and Dean. They stare back at me. I don't know who they are. I don't care. I don't care if they mean well, if they really are here to help me. All I can think of are the past eight years, ever since I was seven, spent in captivity, and a desperation I've never felt before takes hold of me. I can't go back into a cage. Ever. No matter what shape it takes.

Suddenly, I turn and tear down the street. My lungs are burning, legs are aching, and I know I won't be able to keep it up for even a few minutes, but I feel more alive than I have in years. I hear footsteps pounding on the pavement behind me, but I don't stop, watching the street in front of me.

My foot catches on a root growing out of the concrete, and I trip, tumbling onto the concrete. The force of the fall catches me by surprise. My knees and palms sting fiercely, and my head pulses with pain where it cracked against the sidewalk. Dean finally reaches me, and slows, staring at me in incredulity. I stare back, to high on adrenaline to feel scared.

"Damn, girl." Dean gasps, holding his side. "You run fast."

A breathy laugh bubbles from my lips, and I'm stunned into silence. My first run, my first laugh. Tonight is full of surprises. Dean jolts me from my thoughts as he pulls me up off the street. He guides me down the street, holding me firmly by the shoulders. He leads me around the corner, to where Sam is sitting in the driver's seat of a sleek black car. He gets out when he sees us coming, rounding the care and opening the door for me. My throat closes up momentarily as Dean presses down on my head, gently pushing me into the small compartment.

I scoot to the middle of the soft seat, and it occurs to me that this would be much more comfortable than the cold floor of my cage and a thin blanket. It's the middle of the night, and I'm exhausted. I feel like I should be trying to find a way out of the car, but I don't see the point. He would only catch me again. I settle down on the seat, using my arm as a pillow for my head.

As I close my eyes to sleep, I think that it's probably a good thing that Dean caught me.

I never would have survived in the real world.

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**As always, thank you for reading my stories. Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think of the changes. Or just what you thought if it's your first time reading.**

**Cheers!**


	2. Too Late

**Chapter 2 - Too Late**

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Sam glanced back at the girl in the rearview mirror. Her head rested carefully on her elbow, hand tucked neatly under her body. The blanket Dean had set over her once she fell asleep. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with a few loose strands hanging around her face.

Sam shifted, turning to look critically at his older brother. "You want to maybe explain how you handled her?"

Dean sighed. "A few years back, while you were at Stanford, Dad and I were hunting a ghost. It was a pretty basic job, and we didn't expect too much trouble. We also didn't expect to find a girl trapped in the basement. The man the ghost was haunting had kept her captive there for her whole life. The ghost was the spirit of her dead mother, murdered by her captor."

Sam's eyes widened in horror.

Dean nods. "I know. The guy was arrested after we got rid of the ghost. Dad and I stuck around for a few months to help the girl. What I remember most is how confused she was. By everything. Especially the way everyone was trying to help her." Dean looked at Sam meaningfully.

"She was scared of the people who were nice to her, because she didn't understand it." Dean said, shaking his head. "She was okay after a while, but she only understood what people wanted when they gave her orders." He shrugged. "I figured it was the same with Sleeping Beauty here."

"Yeah." Sam agreed with a wan expression. He smiled slightly, thinking about a similar situation that happened a few months before. "Remember Kid?"

Dean looked over skeptically. "What do you remember about that that gives you a smile?"

"C'mon, it turned out alright, didn't it?"

"Sure," Dean scoffed. "It was all just peachy."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Dude, we have a problem with picking up strays."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, Sammy, we do."

Sam leaned his head back on the headrest. "Where're we headed?" He asked Dean.

"Bobby's. It's not that far away." He answered shortly. Sam nodded in affirmation. He thought of Max and the flock, who had been staying with Bobby for a while. They had left a few months before for some vague mission in Antarctica, but they were expected back in a few weeks. At that point, it was only Bobby, all alone in his big house again. Sam figured he wouldn't mind the company. Too much, at least.

Sam glanced back at the girl again. She looked so young. 14 at the oldest. Too young to have gone through all that.

"Dean, you think we should have killed the guy?" He asked sharply. "He shouldn't be able to get away with this."

"We don't kill humans, Sam." Dean said with his eyes fixed firmly on the road.

"He isn't human." Sam muttered, turning his heated gaze out the window.

Dean sighed, looking over at his brother. "You remember when Jo was all revenge bent over Fang?" Sam nodded slightly. "You know what I told her?" He offered a shake of the head. "I told her that when the time came, we would get revenge. Hell, Fang could have joined in. But until he was better, revenge wouldn't help him."Dean paused to glance at the girl in the mirror. "It's the same situation here."

"We never did get even with Ari, did we?"

Dean shrugged. "No need. Fang didn't need the reminder of what happened. He needed to move on."

Sam sighed, leaning his head on the window, lost in thought.

"Sam." Dean tapped his arm. "We don't know how this is going to turn out. She may turn out to have scars that we can't heal. Don't get too attached, okay?"

Sam's head jerked in a nod, and Dean turned back to the road, satisfied with that response. However, as Sam peered out into the unforgiving night, the only thought in his head rang with worry and concern.

_Too late._

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**Review, review, review! Please! **

**Let me know what you think. I decided to convert most of the first person views into the third person, and only leave first person in the case of Alison. I just don't like how the writing turns out when I try to put myself in the shoes of characters I didn't create.**

**Cheers!**


	3. Arrival

**Chapter 3 - Arrival**

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It's still dark when a bump in the road jolts me from sleep. I blink and slowly, the interior of a car comes into focus. Soft seat under my arm, cool air blowing in from air conditioners, and the slight rumbled and bumps of the road. I rub my eyes tiredly. I had half expected the entirety of last night to have been a dream. Dean's low voice halts as I push myself up, running a hand over my hair. I glance at the rear view mirror and meet sympathetic hazel eyes.

"You awake?" Dean asks, eyes on the road. I give a small nod.

"Good." He turns to Sam. "We'll be there in 10 minutes."

I look out the window to my right as Sam murmurs his assent. The trees flash by in a blur of green and brown,, all shrouded in a veil of night. My eyes fill with tears at the sight, and I quickly lower my head to my chest, blinking quickly to banish them. For a moment, I find myself yearning for the cool, dusty halls of my old home. My prison. The sun is barely over the horizon. Tom will be getting up soon, checking the register, glancing over his favorite displays. One of which was me. A shudder runs through me as I picture the look on his face when he realizes I am gone, and any nostalgia I feel dispels quickly.

I realize Dean is pulling into some kind of parking lot. Old cars crowd the rocky ground, looking very run down and dilapidated. Some sit with their hoods propped open, waiting, as if someone were coming over to fix them. Dust sits on the top of their exposed engines, and I find myself wondering how long they have been waiting for someone to make them whole again.

The car slows to a halt, and Sam and Dean lean close, murmuring in low voices. Sam's eyes flicker over to me every few seconds, and I look away, practically able to taste his pity, it's so thick in the air. He steps out of the car, and walks up to the low building in front of us. Dean turns around to face me.

"Sam's going to bring a friend out here. I need you to stay calm, okay?" I nod, but I can already feel the unease tightening a vise around my lungs. I watch as Sam goes around the corner of the house, presumably to the front door. I wait tensely, heart pounding loud enough to hear in my ears, for Sam to return with this "friend".

Finally, Sam returns, followed closely by a shorter, stocky sort of man. He has a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and a jean jacket covering a dingy gray t-shirt with an illegible inscription on the front. As they near, I expect them to go to Dean's window, talk to him. But then, the door by my feet opens suddenly, and I yank my feet up to my chest. A fierce looking man peers in, with Sam by his side. He pulls the cap from his head, and squints at me, huddled in the farthest corner of their car. My breath falls short for a second as I watch him. His glare is inquisitory, almost suspicious, and I get the feeling that nothing gets past this old man.

"Jesus, you idjits, what've you done now?" The man rumbles. "Well, let's get her up to the house."

Dean steps out of the car, and joins the two men. "Come on out," He orders, bending a hand and waving me toward them

I move slowly, my eyes dancing from Sam to the old man to Dean. I narrow my eyes at the three of them, waiting patiently for me to obey the command like a trained dog, and obstinately reach behind me, stepping out of the car on the opposite side of the three men. I hear a low chuckle, and I see the old man shaking his head, a wry grin on his withered face.

"Let's get inside," The old man suggests as they round the car. For a moment, I look behind me, wondering if it would be worth the effort to run, but the fight drains from me. What would be the point of running? Where would I go, anyway? I turn to the ramshackle house in resignation, and step away from the car. Someone places their hand on the small of my back, and I tense up involuntarily.

As I pass through the front door, I listen intently for other voices, heartbeats, signs of life. The building is completely quiet, with no other living soul anywhere near. I would know, with my hearing.

"You need any food?" The old man asks. I choose not to answer, glaring at the floorboards instead.

Bobby lets out another low, sardonic laugh. "I can tell we're gonna have our hands full with you," he chuckles, and I bristle at the comment.

"Thanks, Bobby, but we should get to bed. It's been a long day." Dean says. "Come on," He looks down at me. "We'll find you bed upstairs."

"Take any room other than mine, ya hear?" Bobby calls after him as we start down the hallway.

Sam gives me a very small nudge, and I start walking after Dean. He leads me up a staircase, and down a long hallway. The floorboards creak, and everything is dusty, but this place doesn't seem like a scary place. Just old, with winding hallways and hidden rooms. It reminds me of a book I read a long time ago, about a girl lost down a rabbit hole.

Dean opens the door to a room near the main hallway. I gaze around the small bedroom. The bed's been made recently, and there are a pile of books on the bedside table. The window is quite large, with a wide seat at the base, covered in pillows and blankets. The closet is full of clothes, some of them hung up, others flung on the floor and dangling over the rack like limp animals.

"You can have Max's room." Dean says. "She won't be back for a while. You can wear the clothes in the closet, but don't screw them up, alright? Max won't care, but Nudge'll pitch a fit."

The names reverberate in my head. _Max. Nudge. _There were others here, at one point. Very recently, by the look of the room.

"This is your room for now," Dean says. "Don't leave. At least for tonight, okay?"

Dean shuts the door, leaving me alone in my thougts. I walk over to the bed, run my hand over the patterned quilt covering the soft sheets. I lay down, staring up at the ceiling, relishing the feel of thick padding under my back, soft pillows under my head. I get up for a moment to turn off the light, leaving me in complete darkness. The only light shines in from the window and the waning moon, casting a square of soft light on the floor. My floor, now I guess. All of this, I suppose, is mine now.

_You are mine, now. Everything you do belongs to me, understand? You don't eat, sleep, or breathe without my say. That's how it is now. _

I sit up, shuddering at the sound of his voice in my head. Even now, miles and miles away from there, he's here. In my head. Everywhere I look. I pull my knees to my chest, and hug them tight, willing for that sense of safety that I've been searching for forever. I thought that maybe, here, as far away from him as I am, I would finally find some peace. Some sense of security that I've never felt before.

I know that's a lie, however. Safe. I know I didn't have the childhood that normal kids have. Even before Tom, something was always off about my life. If my life has taught me anything, though, it is that you are never safe. And if you think you are? That's when you're in the most danger.

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Sam watched as Dean lead the girl down the hallway to the stairs going to the second floor. Her eyes darted from side to side, watching everything. Sam sighed, shaking his head. He couldn't blame her for being afraid. He just wished she knew that she didn't have to be anymore.

"So. Another?" Bobby quipped after Dean and the girl disappeared around the corner.. "Except you came here instead of to the Roadhouse."

Sam nodded, eyes still fixed on the hallway where they had been. "Yeah. Here was closer. And more secluded."

Bobby sighed, arming sweat from his forehead. "What the hell, Sam. Who is she?"

Sam shook his head. "That's the problem, Bobby, we don't know. We found her at that old "Oddities Museum" in Nevada. The one with the cursed object. She was being kept in a damn cage, Bobby."

Bobby frowned. "A cage?"

Sam nodded. "Dean and I, we got her out, but the way she acts… Bobby, what the hell did he do to her in there?"

"I'm not sure I want to find out." Bobby said with a scowl. He paced the front room, rubbing a hand over his head. "Why a cage? Why not a locked room?"

Sam didn't answer, shaking his head. "Bobby, I think there's something that's different about her. I just have this hunch…. She isn't a normal girl."

"Well, no kidding, Sam, she was kept captive for how knows long and probably abused. She isn't going to be the average American teenager."

"Yeah, I know Bobby, I'm not stupid." Sam said. "I mean even if she hadn't been taken, I feel like she's different."

There was a silent pause as they both fell into their thoughts, and then Bobby chuckled, wiping a hand over his face. "How do you boys always manage to pick up the odd ones?"

Sam smiled, face lined with exhaustion. "Yeah, we do have a habit of that, don't we?"

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**Please review. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, if you thought the characters acted they way they should have, etc. ANY feedback is awesome! : )**

**Cheers! **


	4. Misunderstanding

**Chapter 4 - Promises**

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_The room is dark around me. I can hear my breath, rasping in my ears. My heart is pounding. I am waiting for something. Someone. I can't remember who, but I know that I don't want them to come._

_I hear whimpering around me, and the small, heartbreaking sound of children crying. I reach out, trying to comfort them, and my hand hits a barrier of solid plastic. My other hand shoots out, sliding around on the surface to find a break, to find the way around this wall. Only, instead of an opening, I find a corner. My hands scrabble around, trying to find the opening, the break, the escape, until I realize the awful truth. _

_There isn't one. _

_A roof slams down over my head, shoving me down into a crouching position. The space is too small, and my back is aching after only a moment cramped like this. I have to get out. Now. I pound at the walls, crying out for help, pleading for escape, and I can finally hear that all the other children around me are begging for the same thing. A chorus of tortured voices, screaming for someone to help them, crying out into a void of uncaring darkness._

I jolt awake, shooting to a sitting position, gripping the bedspread beneath my fingers tightly. My eyes slam shut, and I'm rocking back and forth before I can grasp anything I see around me. "It wasn't real, only a dream. It wasn't real, only a dream. It wasn't real, only a dream." I chant quietly to myself. Only after my heart slows do I open my eyes, look at the room around me.

I'm alone. I feel a sense of relief followed by a brief flash of loneliness. I shake the feeling away. I've been alone my whole life. I should be used to it.

A bird call pierces the silent morning. I look to the window, and see the the first few rays of sunshine are beginning to shoot through the window, hitting the floor.

Silently, I push back the thick comforter and stand up. The floor is cold. I walk over to the window. There is a large ledge sticking out of the window, easy to sit on. I lower myself onto the platform, and pull my legs up to my chest.

I look at the lock on the window. It would be easily opened. I could do it. Leave. It wouldn't be too hard. However, my crazed need for escape that I experienced yesterday has since been replaced with a docile, resigned feeling. Dean and Sam would catch me before I got too far. The temporary freedom wouldn't be worth the punishment that would come after.

Gazing out the window, I spot a pretty bluebird land on one of the old cars outside. It looks so pretty, so soft. She hops on the warm metal surface, and I feel an absurd longing for her to fly up to my window, sit by me for a few minutes, fill the lonely void I have gaping inside. It's odd, but ever since I woke up this morning, I feel like I'm mourning, without knowing what for. It's like I'm suddenly lonely for the presence of people that I used to know, except I have never known anyone except Tom, and I certainly don't mourn the loss of his presence.

I hear the door open, and I quickly turn my head to watch it. I see Sam standing by the now open door. I tense, pulling my hand off of where it drifted up to press against the glass. I can't meet his gaze, but I want to be able to watch his movements. I settle for looking at the ground by his feet. Sam sees the uncertainty in my face and looks away, instead staring at the floor.

"We're having breakfast," He explains to the floorboards. "You want any?"

I look away, back out to the window, to the pretty, soft bluebird that sits on the old cars. Do I want breakfast? Yes, yes I do. My stomach cramps from hunger, sending hunger pangs shooting through my body, but I can't ask. If I ask, then it becomes a privilege. And I can't have those.

I hear Dean clomp up the stairs, coming to stand next to Sam. I hear him clap a hand on Sam's shoulder, and I can't stop the tremble that shakes my fingers when I hear the impact.

"Jeez, Sam, it's not even nine o'clock in the morning, and already you're confusing her." Dean lightly jokes. Sam says nothing, just waits as Dean passes him and walks into my room. Then I hear his footsteps going softly down the stairs.

I don't move from my spot on the windowsill. I just watch the bluebird, daintily hopping from car to car. I bet she never felt the bars of captivity pressing in on her from all sides. She's gone her whole life, in charge of herself, catching her own food, flying with her own two wings. Tears prick my eyes, and I shake my head, angry to be jealous of bird.

"Hey." Dean says, his voice closer than before. The hairs on my neck stand up, and I get the irrational feeling that he's standing right behind me, leaning over my shoulder. I give in to the impulse and glance back, relaxing when I find that he's lounging comfortably in a plump armchair on the other side of the room.

"What's your name?" Dean asks clinically. My teeth clench. I don't want to tell him. Once I tell him, it's his to call me. To use against me. And it isn't even mine.

"What's your name?" Dean repeats. His voice never raises, but my inner alarms blare loudly. Repeated questions are never good. Tom never repeated a question more than once. Sometimes not even that.

Reluctantly, I give in. "Allison." The word tastes like rust in my mouth. It smells of dust and darkness, and sounds like a lie. Tom gave me that name. I don't remember my name before that. Or if I even had a name. But if I did, it faded away after Tom started calling me Allison.

"Allison, you need to eat." Dean says, like it's a statement of fact. Which I know it's not. People can go a long time without eating. I once made it a week on nothing but a pail of water and a stale bagel. Dean waits for me to respond, to say that he's right, to nod, to acknowledge that he spoke. Which I don't want to do. I want him to leave so I can go back to staring at a bird that has more rights than I apparently ever will.

Dean adjusts in the seat, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees. He fixes me in a sincere gaze, and I look away. "You must be hungry, Allison. It's been at least twelve hours since you ate anything."

Wrong. It's been over twenty-four.

Dean stands, stretching, and I watch him cautiously out of the corner of my eye. He nears me, stopping only a few feet away, and I feel my muscles tense.

His voice is soft and gentle when he speaks. "You don't have to come downstairs if you don't want to. But I want you to know that you can." He walks out of the room, leaving the door open, and I look toward the open door after he's gone.

I drop my head into my hands, blowing out a heavy breath. The pressure I felt with him hovering in the room is gone, and I'm left with glorious room to breathe. I stare at the open door, and eventually stand up, crossing the room, pulled by the growling in my stomach and the chance of food in my mouth.

I follow the clatter of plates and silverware, and the rich, hearty smell of eggs and bacon. The scent leads me down the stairs and past the front door, into a dingy kitchen with a small, wooden dining table. Dean leans against the counter, talking in a low voice to Sam, who's chopping fruit with very narrow focus, not even sparing a glance at his brother.

Bobby, setting the table, is the first to notice me. He pauses for a moment, and then resumes his actions, tossing words over his shoulder casually.

"Thought you're gonna sleep all day." He commented, picking up some glasses and setting them out. Four glasses, four plates. They made a place for me. I'm momentarily taken aback by the simple gesture.

"You can sit down, Allison." Sam says, noting my presence. I tense up at the name, staring obstinately at the floor. Plus, something about his tone rubs me the wrong way. Like he thinks I'm a fragile object about to snap.

I march over to where Bobby stands, grabbing a few napkins and setting them out on the table. I grab forks and spoons, dropping them down next to plates. I know it's not set out correctly, but I don't care. I contributed. I'm not fragile. I'm not useless.

I sit down in the chair, and watch Dean walk over to Bobby. He converses quietly with him, glancing back at me every few words. I see Sam out of the corner of my eye, and he's staring at the floor, not looking at me.

Sam takes the chair adjacent to me, and I keep my eyes on the table in front of me. Dean and Bobby keep talking. There's this strange hesitation about Sam, like he wants to say something but doesn't know how. Or doesn't want to break me.

Dean sets a plate down in front of me, and hands one to Sam. I look down at it. Scrambled eggs with a side of bacon, just like I smelled. They look delicious, and my mouth waters at the fragrance steaming up from the plate, but I wait until the other men pick up their forks before I do.

I place the first bite in my mouth, and my eyes widen in shock. Hot, salty, and rich, it's probably the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. Not even probably. I shovel half the plate in my mouth before I stop to take another breath. The bacon goes quickly, too, and I almost moan at the taste of real meat, even if it's processed, packaged meat from a store. Close enough.

Somewhere between my last piece of bacon and the fifth forkful of my second plate, my stomach starts to rebel. My tongue tells me that it's the best food we've ever had, which I know, but my stomach screams no, trying to push it all out. I slow down, but I don't stop. _I can make it, _I think. _If I can survive for years on moldy bread and expired fruit, I can sure as hell keep some eggs down. _

Unfortunately, my stomach doesn't agree. Two more forkfuls in, my gut lurches violently, and a wave of nausea washes over me so heavily that I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stop myself from hurling all over the table. Quickly, I run over my options. I could get up and try to make it to the bathroom, or I could throw up on the table. Thinking that perhaps vomiting all over breakfast would not be a great way to show my appreciation, I shove the chair back, sprinting out of the room. Dean yells and his chair scrapes against the floor as he jumps up to follow me. I make it as far as the hallway before I double over and vomit, one hand braced on the staircase beside me.

Dean halts behind me, and I can hear the other two approaching as well. Bobby comes closer, and pulls my ratty hair away from my face. Someone hands him a bucket, and he holds it under my chin as I retch. Not much comes up but stomach bile, but that's mostly because it all ended up on my shoes. Or lack thereof.

"Atta girl, let 'er all out." Bobby says, slowly leading me to the front room, where he promptly sets me down on a patchy couch.

"M'sorry," I mumble.

"Don't apologize for somethin' you got no control over." Bobby says roughly, patting my shoulder gently. He places a hand on my forehead, and reaches to the back of the couch, wrapping a dusty blanket around my shoulders.

"Bobby!" Dean calls as he enters the room. "Is she okay?"

Bobby nods. "She's got a touch of fever, but it's nothin' to worry about."

"Why'd she throw up?" Sam asks, close behind Dean.

"Take your pick. The stress, the fever, the eggs. Could be a number of things."

"If she can't eat eggs, what are we going to give her?" Dean asks.

"Try toast." Bobby suggests with a shrug. "She obviously wasn't eat'n real good back there, and it's gonna take some time to adjust." He looks down at me. My eyelids are fluttering shut, and each time they do, it takes a little more effort to open them again. "Better let her get to sleep."

Bobby leaves, and Sam follows, sparing me a single, unsure glance as he's exiting. Dean, however, pulls up a chair next to me, leaning back and resting his head on his hands behind him. I struggle to keep my eyes open with him in the room.

Dean notices my hesitation. "Go to sleep, Allison." He says as my eyes close. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

Please. I know how easily a promise like that can be broken.

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**More chapters soon!**

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	5. Nightmare

**Thanks to everyone who has written reviews. Some of you have written a review for every chapter, and that feels so awesome! I'm really glad people are enjoying this story. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Chapter 5 - Nightmare**

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Sam rolled over in bed, blearily emerging from the hazy land of the sleeping. He rubbed his eyes, blinking a few times to make the glowing numbers, displaying the horribly late hour of the night, come into focus. He groaned, realizing that Dean should have been up to wake him for his shift with Allison hours ago. Dean was taking his shift. Again.

Allison had been sick in bed with a fever all day, mostly sleeping through the sickness. They had all taken turns by her bedside just in case she happened to wake up or need something. Although they had all tried to go in equal shifts, Dean had definitely done more than he could have, taking Sam's or Bobby's shifts for them on multiple occasions. Like he was right now. Dean had been the one to warn Sam not to get too attached, but it seemed that he was ignoring his own advice.

Sam rolled out of bed, stumbling unsteadily downstairs to where Dean was keeping a near-constant vigil by the couch. Bobby's in bed, so Sam quietly stepped over the creaky step on the stairs, leaning against the doorframe. He watched his older brother in amusement and mild concern. Dean held a half finished beer in one hand and stared absently at the floor, dark circles shadowing his eyes.

Dean glanced up, taking one look at his younger brother, and snorted. "You look terrible, Sammy."

"It's Sam,"Sam said automatically. "And you don't look any better." Dean just shrugged.

Sam pulled out a chair next to Dean, unconsciously pulling a hand through his hair, ignoring the look of disdain Dean shot him as he did it.

"What are we going to do with her, Dean?" Sam asked, watching Allison shift in her sleep.

Dean sighed, still nursing the beer. "Honestly, we should get her to a hospital. She looks pretty battered, Sammy, and I don't like how sick she is right now."

"Dean, Bobby said it's probably nothing-."

"Yeah, well, Bobby's not some hot-shot doctor, alright?" Dean snapped irritably. "And there's also the fact that she can't eat anything to think about. If she throws up everything we give her, she isn't going to get better."

Sam nodded, sighing heavily. "Yeah, I know, but I really don't think it would be good for her mentally-"

Dean cut him off. "That's another thing. A hospital would be more equipped to deal with a traumatized teen. We aren't. We could end up screwing her up even more."

"I don't think that's possible, Dean." Sam said quietly. He watched Allison's small form on the couch. "And a hospital would only scare her. It would be chaotic and loud and everything that she doesn't need right now."

"They would be a hell of a lot better than us!" Dean scoffed. "Look at us, Sammy! How is any of this actually helping her?"

Sam heard his brother, understood his frustration. "At least wait for a few days. Give her a chance to trust us."

Dean reluctantly nodded. "But after a few days, even if she still doesn't, we're going, okay?"

Sam jerked his head in agreement. "Fine."

Quietly Allison shifted on the bed, wrapping an edge of the sheet around her. With one end of the sheet snagging on her legs, she pulled absently, trying to untangle herself. Her movements, only causing her to become more snarled in the blankets, get more frantic until she's thrashing and whimpering, straining to get free. Sam stood, recognizing the signs of nightmare. He reached out a hand, grabbing her shoulder, but she only cried out feebly, jerking away from his touch.

Sam pulled away, feeling helpless and unsure as Allison's breath came out in pants and spastic bursts.

Dean pushed in front of him, taking Allison's shoulders in his hands. She screamed again, fighting him, but he held strong.

"Allison, wake up!" He said as he jostled her. "C'mon Allison, it's only a dream. Wake up"

Her eyes flew open, and she sucked in a startled breath at the sight of Dean's large form hovering over her in the dark. A small whimper escaped her as she shrank away from him and his firm hands on her shoulders.

Sam jumped up and flicked on the light. Allison flinched and squinted against the harsh light in her eyes. Shudders ran down her spine, and Sam watched helplessly as the nightmare she'd been suffering from slowly came back to her. Tears filled her eyes, dripped down her cheeks. She tried to turn away, but Dean sat down next to her, gently but firmly wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a tight embrace. Allison fought against him, trying to push away, but he held her tightly.

"Allison, it's okay," He murmured quietly. "I promise you're safe. You can trust me."

Allison pushed against him futilely for a few moments more, becoming more desperate and frantic until it didn't seem that she was pushing against Dean, but the feeling of letting go of the cage around her heart, keeping her from letting others in. Slowly, her motions lessened their onslaught, and her violent shoves gave way to heaving sobs.

"Shhh…" Dean pulled her against his shoulder, and she let him, crying desperately against his shirt.

Sam felt a pang of sympathy run through his heart. She looked so vulnerable, so alone. How in the world could they help her? How could he, when he didn't even know how to stop her tears? Allison opened her eyes, and Sam noticed the sheen of alarm behind the wall of tears. Then his own eyes widened as strange sight registered in his head.

It was her eyes. Her eyes, blue and clear only a moment ago, were yellow, with vertical slits for pupils. He stood up, alarm shooting through him. What was she? Shape-shifter? Kitsune? Different answers ran across his mind, each less sensible than the last. She was a teenage girl, broken and alone. Definitely not some kind of monster.

Nonetheless, Sam watched as her crying shudders transitioned to full-fledged convulsions, and Dean stopped, pulling away to see what was wrong. He stood up, taking a few steps away in shock when he noticed her eyes. Allison fell back, panting heavily, cat eyes rolling in the back of her head.

The entire transition happened so quickly that Sam couldn't get a good look, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. There was a sickening sound of cracking and grinding, and Allison whimpered, even her voice becoming guttural and low. Patches of fur broke out of her darkening skin, and her arms and legs jerked around in time with the sounds of bones shifting. Within a matter of moments, an oversized spotted cat lay draped over the couch cushion, panting and blinking uncertainly.

The cat pushed itself up, staring at the brothers with an almost human expression of fear and apprehension.

"Holy Hell…" Dean muttered. "She's…" He couldn't finish his sentence, and Sam filled in with a breathless whisper.

"Cat," He said in awe. "She's a cat."

The cat on the couch blinked a few times, watching the brothers cautiously. After a moment or two of complete silence, her ears pulled back, and her eyes narrowed. The expression on her face was foreign to Sam, having never had a pet other than Bones when he was young, but she seemed uncomfortable. The cat slipped off the couch, scurrying quickly into the kitchen. Sam and Dean scrambled back as she passed, but followed her, watching as she hunched her back by the front door, retching loudly.

"Cat puke." Sam observed absently.

Bobby walked in, awakened from all the noise.

"Would either of you like to explain why there is a cat currently vomiting in my shoes?"

Sam opened his mouth to explain, but couldn't find any words to justify the spectacle. He looked over at his brother, who offered no help, only a stunned and completely flabbergasted stare.

Sam turned back to Bobby, shrugging his shoulders. "For once, I have absolutely no idea."

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**That one was shorter...so…sorry 'bout that. **

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	6. Question and Answer

**Chapter Six! **

**Sam P.O.V.**

I walk into Abby's room. She's sitting on the window ledge, with her knees up to her chest. Her eyes move to follow me. Last night Abby passed out in cat form after puking up her stomach contents, and Dean carried her up to her room. When she changed to cat, apparently her clothes didn't come with her, because they were left on the couch. We set some new clothes on the foot of the bed, and put the cat under the covers.

I walk into the room, shutting the door behind me. Abby doesn't take her eyes off of me. She doesn't move. I sit on her bed, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees.

"Look," I start. "You probably have a ton of questions, and I have some of my own,"

Abby shifts to face me head-on, but stays in the same position. She gives me a slight nod.

"So, how about we answer each other's questions?" I finish. She nods again, and I begin.

"Abby, how long did...he...have you?" I ask, keeping a gentle eye contact.

Abby stares at the floor. "Tom?" She clarifies. I nod. "About eight years." She answers quietly.

"How come you took me?" She whispers.

"My brother and I help people. You looked like you needed help." I answer, shrugging slightly.

"Tom didn't sell me to you?" She asks quietly. Her voice sounds fragile.

"No." I say firmly. "We rescued you."

Abby winces, like she doesn't believe that.

"Where were you before Tom found you?" I ask. Abby crinkles her forehead.

"I don't know." Then she continues quickly, like she's afraid of being hit. "I mean, it's kind of fuzzy. I hated it there. I remember other kids, but they didn't stay long."

"Was it an orphanage? Were those kids adopted?" I ask.

Abby thinks, then shakes her head hesitantly. "No, I don't think so. I remember thinking that something really, really bad had happened to them."

I sit back, slightly stumped. Where could she have been? Suddenly, a dark thought enters my mind. I close my eyes.

"Abby, how long have you been able to do that...cat thing?" I ask, praying quietly in my mind.

Abby blushes. "The cat thing?" I nod. "I've always been able to do it."She shrugs lightly.

I stand up. "I have to go talk to Dean. Thanks, Abby." I turn to the door.

"That's not me." The words are spoken at barely above a whisper, but I still hear them.

I turn around to face Abby. Her expression is fierce, and it reminds me of a baby lion trying to roar.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Tom called me Abby. It was his pet name for me. I'm not a pet, and I'm not Abby." She struggles to say the last sentence, because it's denying everything that she's ever been told.

"Who are you, then?" I ask. Abby shrugs, her face gazing out the window. She seems more relaxed after admitting that.

I smile. "You'll figure it out. You can come down if you want." Abby stays by the window. I know she'll come down when she's ready.

I leave the door open about a foot, and walk to the kitchen. Dean's standing by the TV, blankly staring at it. He looks up at me when I enter.

"What did she say?" He asks.

"Dean, I think she was at the School." I say bluntly.

Dean stares at me. "What? Why?"

"You mean besides the crazy cat thing? She says she came from a place with other kids, and she hated it there."

"Could have been an orphanage." He says, walking to the fridge, probably for a beer.

I shake my head. "No, she said that she was sure that wasn't it. Besides, she wouldn't have been able to hide the cat thing from everyone. It would have shown itself eventually, and when it did, there would have been a ton of trouble."

"And you don't think she's something supernatural?" He asks, popping open a beer.

"No. There just isn't any logical evidence to support that theory." I say.

"You want to call Max?" Dean asks.

I shrug. "We can talk to her when she gets here. It should be in about two weeks, right?"

Dean nods. He leans back against the counter, taking a swig from the bottle.

Abby walks in, taking a seat at the table, facing the TV. Quietly, I whisper Abby's choice about getting a new name to Dean. He nods.

**Abby's P.O.V.**

I sit on the chair, watching the TV. Some newscaster is talking about the fourth of July celebration coming up. Dean pulls out a chair next to me and sits down.

"I hear you're picking a new name." Dean says. I nod absently.

"How about Scamp?" I look at him and make a face.

"What? It's a quality name." Dean leans back in his chair, and shuts up. I listen to the newscaster.

"In about a month, the fourth of July celebration will take place in Bradley Park. This year's fireworks are supposed to be the best ones yet, even better than last year. The organizer, Merle Gunner, says that the fireworks are a great display of our country's courage and independence."

The screen lights up with colors. I watch as they show clips of the fireworks. They are beautiful. Vibrant, proud, brave. Independent.

Stunned, I turn to Sam. "I...I think I know my name." I say quietly, my mind still humming with images of explosions of color.

"Yeah?" He says, a soft smile on his face.

"Independence."

**What do you think? Review and tell me. I shall post another chapter soon. **

**See-ya!**


	7. Hospital Visit

**Independence's (Indie's) P.O.V.**

I start awake. I lay for a second, shaking away my nightmare. I take a deep breath, and look at the clock. 6:36am. A full minute before the sun will rise. I sit up, and push back the covers.

I stand up and cross the room to my window. I sit down and watch the horizon as the first rays of sunlight peek over the hills.

This is becoming a regular routine for me. I wake up a minute before the sun, and watch as it rises. Unfortunately, the nightmares are routine as well. It's been a week since I decided on my new name, and I think I'm slowly beginning to grasp the meaning of "normal".

Bobby usually makes some kind of breakfast. My stomach is still adjusting to eating good food, not garbage, and so that leads to lots of barfing. Yesterday, Bobby made pancakes, and while I couldn't have any of the syrup, they were still really good. And, I didn't puke.

It takes the sun an hour to rise all the way, and by the time it's risen, I have nearly forgotten last nights terror. I hear the door open behind me. Out of habit, I tense up, wanting to hide, but I resist. Besides, I already know who it is. Sam.

"Indie, we're having breakfast." He says. "Come down when you want to eat." I nod, and tuck my face into my elbow, my smile wide. I love hearing my new name. It makes me feel proud, vibrant, and free. Dean thought "Independence" was too much of a mouthful, so he gave me a nickname. I like it.

Reluctantly, I leave my window ledge to walk down to the kitchen. Sam's sitting at the table, staring at Bobby and Dean. Dean looks upset, like he was trying to convince the other two of something. When I walk in, they go back to normal, Dean helping Bobby with breakfast, and Sam searching through the papers, but I can still feel the tense atmosphere.

I cross the room, shivering at the cold linoleum floor. I can feel Dean's gaze on me. When I turn to look at him, he looks unsure.

"Indie," He states. "We need to talk."

I walk to the counter and grab plates out of the cabinet. "About what?" I ask with forced nonchalance, setting out the plates.

"A hospital visit." Dean says. I freeze, bracing myself on the counter.

"No." I state quietly.

"Indie-." Dean starts.

"No, Dean. I can't." I say. I hate hospitals. I've never been to one, but I know what they are. They are full of sick people, hurt people, and people in white coats who poke and prod you with needles.

"Indie, it's long overdue. We should have taken you there first, but we had to get some things sorted out first." Dean says.

"I'm not sick." I state flatly. Dean opens his mouth but I cut him off again.

"Look, Indie, we need to go, alright? It'll help me sleep better at night." Dean says. "It's just a matter of whether we'll have to drug you to get there or not."

I scowl and turn away, wrapping my arms around myself. I hate the idea of having someone touching me, especially a stranger. Then I sigh. While Dean wouldn't really drug me, he will nag me and pester me until I go. Either way, I'll end up at the hospital. I should just make things less painful by giving in now.

"Fine," I mutter. I stay facing away from him. I steel my resolve, ready to hold a grudge until this is over. I know that eventually, as in two hours, I'll give up and forgive them, but for now I'm going to be mad.

Dean sighs, knowing I'm going to be mad for a while. I sit stiffly at the table, refusing to look at him, as Bobby puts food on my plate. Dean walks out of the kitchen on his phone, probably calling the hospital to make an appointment.

"Fortunately", Dean was able to find a spot open for 1:45pm, so I paced around the house until one. No one tried to stop me, because they knew that I would only ignore them. At 1:15, Dean calls me downstairs, and we walk to the Impala. Dean starts the car.

"What's our cover story?" I ask.

"You are my neice. You came to live with me after your father was arrested for abuse. I want to make sure you're healthy." Dean says.

"Dean! What if they find out you're lying?" I ask.

Dean smiles. "They won't. The lies easiest to believe are the ones closest to the truth."

I raise my eyebrows. "That's close to the truth?"

Dean gives a wry laugh. "Isn't it?"

I think for a moment. "Yeah. I guess." I look over at Dean. "Except Tom wasn't arrested."

Dean squirms a little. He looks uncomfortable. "Indie, there was nothing that we could do. It was hard enough just to get you out of the building without being seen. If we had tried to get revenge, there was no way any of us would have gotten out."

I nod. "I want him to pay, Dean." I shake my head, blinking my eyes to dry the moisture in them. "I want him to pat for shoving me in a cage, showing me off to the world like I was part of his collection, like a freak." I choke out the last word.

Dean puts a hand on my shoulder. "We will make him pay, Indie, you can be sure of that. When you're ready, we'll even let you help."

I take a deep breath, and nod. I close my eyes and try to relax, but my brain thinks of more worries.

"What if they find out I'm not...normal?" I ask.

"Indie, your blood type, heart rate, oxygen levels, breathing, and everything else is exactly the way it should be for a 14 year old girl. You don't need to stress about that."

I nod. There is a pause.

"But what if-"

"Indie, stop. Let's worry about what actually happens, not what might happen, alright?" Dean says with an amused glance at me. I nod, leaning my head back against the headrest.

After another ten minutes of driving, we pull into the parking lot of the hospital. I feel my breathing quicken, creeping towards hyperventilating. Dean looks at me, my eyes wide, by breath wheezing, my hands shaking.

"Indie." Dean says to get my attention. It doesn't work. My brain continues to panic.

"Independence." Dean says clearly, and I calm at the name. It brings me back to Earth, and helps me collect my head.

I turn to Dean, trying to convey all the fear I am feeling in my eyes. His eyes are full of compassion. He sighs, and leans forward. He gently takes my head in his hands, and carefully pulls me toward him. He presses his forehead against mine, and I close my eyes. Normally, I might feel claustrophobic, but right now, I only feel comforted and safe.

"Indie, I will never let anything hurt you again." Dean promises. He means it. I know it will be broken, because that is an impossible promise, but I feel better all the same. "If anything happens, and they try to keep you, I will kidnap you out of there, okay?"

Dean leans back. "I won't be able to be with you the whole time…" He starts. I feel the panic flare up again. I look at my hands, trying to keep them from shaking. I can see him moving in the corner of my eye. When I look up, something is dangling from his hands. A thick black cord, and hanging on it, an amulet, that looks like a small face with horns. It's golden, and has it's eyes closed.

"Indie, I want you to wear this, okay?" I nod, still staring at it. I know what that is. That's the amulet that Sam gave Dean when they were kids. It's the most important thing that Dean owns.

He lowers the cord around my neck, and I feel the cool weight settle on my collarbone. I feel safer with it around my neck.

Dean steps out of the car, and I follow him. I stare up at the huge building. Dean walks to me, and places his arm around my shoulders. I smile up at him gratefully. He urges me forward, and we walk together towards the Sacred Heart Hospital.

**If you've seen the TV series **_**Scrubs,**_** then you'll probably know most of the characters in the next chapter. If you haven't seen **_**Scrubs,**_** then you need to. Right now. Seriously, it's an awesome show. **

**Review, please! I would love it!**

**See-ya!**


	8. Sacred Heart

**Sorry this one took longer to post. My mother wanted me to do something other than sit on the couch. Blah.**

**Enjoy!**

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I walk into the hospital, and I notice how chaotic everything is. Doctors going here, nurses going there, wheelchairs everywhere. I whimper a little and shrink behind Dean, clinging onto his arm. Dean threads his fingers through mine, and he squeezes my hand reassuringly. He leads me to the front desk.

A large dark skinned woman is sitting behind the counter. Her name tag says...Laverne. _Kind of an odd name, _I think.

"Excuse me?" Dean says, leaning onto the counter.

The woman raises her eyebrows, scrutinizing us. "Yes?" she says in a thick southern accent.

"I'm Dean Holden? I have an appointment with Dr. Cox." He says, smiling.

"Sure, hon, wait right over there." She points to a waiting area. For 45 long minutes we wait, me with my eyes closed, and knee bouncing anxiously. Dean, of course, is Mr. Cool, and spends his time scoping out the babes in the room.

"Dean Holden?" An elderly man in a white coat calls. When we stand, he smiles at us.

"My name is Dr. Kelso. Welcome to Sacred Heart." He says with a smile that seems fake.

We follow him through the white hallways, to a room with a single exam table. The old man gestures for me to hop up on the table, but Dean holds his arm out, stopping me.

"I called Dr. Cox. Where is he?" He asks. Dr. Kelso smiles, but his eyes do not.

"Dr. Cox is busy, I'm sure, killing, ahem, _treating_ some other patient. I decided to fill in for him." He says to Dean dismissively. He turns to me. "Now, hop up, sweetheart."

I raise my eyebrows, and cross my arms. I already don't like this guy. If he's who'll be treating me, we won't be here for long.

The door opens and a younger man with greying hair walks in.

"Hold on there, Bobbo." He says sarcastically. "I have a prearranged meeting with this man here, and as much as I would love to see your face turn purple when you realize that you don't get this one, I have very important work to do, and you have very important people to kill, so why don't you make like a tree, and leaf, kay?"

Oh, gosh, this is even worse. Do the doctors here _normally_ joke about death, or is it just my presence that brings that out in them? Dr. Kelso gives a tight smile and walks off, muttering death threats under his breath that all of us can hear.

"Are _you_ Dr. Cox?" Dean asks, slightly exasperated.

"That would be me." He confirms with a tip of an invisible hat.

I close my eyes. This man is going to end up killing me. Is he even a doctor?

Suddenly, a younger man runs in. He looks to be in his late twenties and has thick brown hair.

"Dr. Cox, I'm sorry to bother you, but I wanted your opinion on treatment for one of my patients. See-" He starts.

Without taking his eyes off Dean, Dr. Cox holds up his hand. "Nancy," He says tauntingly. "How many times do I have to tell you? Unless your patient is dying or dead, I don't care."

Okay, that's enough. I turn to Dean. "We're leaving." I order quietly, before pulling on his hand to get past the doctors.

"Nancy" turns to me. "Oh, don't let that old grumpy-pants bother you. He just failed to get into a fight with his wife this morning, so he's kind of uptight."

I give him a confused look, and resume pulling. Unfortunately, Dean's harder to move than a brick wall. He pulls me back, and wraps his arms around me, keeping me caged. I huff, and look away, but don't say anything.

"Dr. Cox, please." Dean says quietly. I can tell he's trying to diffuse the situation so that I don't freak out.

Dr. Cox looks at Dean, with his serious face, and me, probably looking like a lost and frantic puppy, and sighs.

"Newbie, I can help you out later. I need you to go, though." He says.

"Hah," Newbie/Nancy laughs lightly. "Go and though rhyme." He takes one look at Dr. Cox's expression and speeds out of the room.

Dr. Cox looks at us with a kind expression. "I'll have some of my best female doctors work with..." He checks the chart. "Indie, here, on the physical, but I can help you through the paperwork."

"Thank you." Dean says. He looks relieved. Dr. Cox has us sit down in the chairs. He doesn't make me sit on the examination table, and I relax. Dean can't offer a lot of answers about my medical history, and I am worried that Dr. Cox will know that Dean's lying about our story. However, I think he knows what happened to me. I guess it makes sense. If I just started living with Dean, he wouldn't know all my my medical stuff.

When we're done doing the paperwork that I have to be involved in, Dr. Cox stands. He presses some of the buttons on his pager, and steps into the hallway.

The door opens again and Dr. Cox returns, this time with two women. The first is in blue scrubs, with a stethoscope around her neck. She has choppy blond hair with bangs that fall into her eyes. The second woman has darker skin, and curly black hair down to her shoulders. She's also wearing scrubs, but I think she's a nurse. They both look nice, and give me kind looks. I stare at the floor, giving them each only a fleeting glance.

Dr. Cox looks at Dean. "Can you come with me?" I shudder slightly at the thought of being left alone in here, defenseless. Dean shoots a look at me.

"Will I be able to come back in?" He asks. Dr. Cox shakes his head. The blond speaks up.

"Hospital policy." She says. "It stinks, but we have to follow policy. Wait, I already said that. Darn it!" She exclaims, blowing the hair out of her face. Dean looks skeptically at Dr. Cox.

"Best female doctors, huh?" Dean asks.

"They were the first ones I thought of." Dr. Cox admits, unashamed. "But they are more than capable of not killing her." He encourages. I feel face flush with fear, and then anger. I was scared, and he was making it a joke.

"Dean," I complained. He looked at me, and I could tell that the look on my face said everything.

"Hey," The nurse says. I look up at her. "Dr. Cox is kidding. I promise we'll take care of you."

I sit down on one of the chairs, and wrap my arms around myself. I look off to the side. I feel a hand on my shoulder. Dean.

"I'll come back in as soon as they're done, okay?" I nod, but I can't meet his eyes. I'm afraid mine might tear up.

Dean walks out of the room with Dr. Cox, and I'm alone with the two women. The nurse squats down in front of me, so she's my height. I turn my face to the ground, but my eyes sneak up to meet hers.

"My name is Carla." She says with a smile. I offer nothing in return. Carla nods to the other doctor. "That's Elliot."

I cock my head. "Isn't that a guys name?" I whisper. Carla lets out a laugh, and Elliot rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. My mouth turns up, and a miniscule laugh fights it's way out of me.

"C'mon, let's get this over with." Elliot says, gesturing to the table. My smile vanishes, and is replaced with a fearful frown.

Carla holds out her hand. Gingerly, I take it, like it's a bomb about to go off. Carla hands me a hospital gown, and shows me where the small changing room is. I change quickly, and fight off the exposed feelings I get from being virtually naked in front of strangers.

Carla is right outside the changing stall, and takes my clothes from me when I step outside. Expertly, she folds them up and sets them on a stool close to the stall. Then she walks with me over to the table. I hop up, shivering at the cold air on my exposed back.

"We're going to take a blood sample, okay?" Elliot says. I nod, even though I feel lightheaded at the thought of a needle. Elliot walks to the cabinet and comes back with a small needle and shot. Carla takes my left hand and gives it a small squeeze.

As Elliot swabs my arm and prepares the needle, I can feel my breathing getting more and more labored. I feel panicked and scared, and I want Dean.

"Hey, Indie." Carla says, pulling me out of the haze of fear for a moment. "Look at me."

I obey, staring at her with desperate eyes.

"Did you know I'm getting married in a few weeks?" She says conversationally. She's trying to distract me. I cling to her words, hoping to forget what Elliot's doing.

"It's true." She continues. "My husband's also a employee here. He's a surgeon." She says with pride, like his accomplishment was hers, too. She goes on to describe the decorations she's going to have, her wedding dress, why she loved him, their cake, and anything else she can think of. When I feel the small pinch of the needle, I hardly think about it.

When Elliot finally withdraws the needle, she places a small square of gauze on my elbow. I hold it down, keeping pressure on the puncture.

"Good idea, Carla." Elliot congratulates. Carla shrugs.

"What idea? I just figured she was the only one who would listen to me without interrupting." I offer a smile, and they both laugh in response.

"Are we done?" I ask quietly.

"Not quite." Elliot says apologetically. "But the good news is, none of the other test will be nearly that painful."

The other tests don't take too long, and are over within a half hour. Carla takes the tray of samples to the lab to be tested, and I wait in the exam room with Elliot. She lets me change back into my regular clothes, and we sit in the chairs, chatting. She does most of the talking, and I learn a lot about her. Not just from what she says, but how she says it. I can tell she doesn't get along with her mother, or her father. From what she says about "Nancy", whose actual name is John Dorian, I can tell they have an awkward relationship, and probably have dated in the past, maybe multiple times.

About ten minutes later, Carla comes back. I was laughing quietly at something Elliot said, but the smile melts off my face when I see Carla's expression. She isn't smiling, and looks worried.

I furrow my brow, confused.

"Our labs are swamped. They won't be able to process your blood tonight. We had to send it out of town, and we won't get the results until tomorrow." Carla says. I relax. I can deal with not having answers until tomorrow. They'll call early tomorrow, and we'll finally know.

"That's not so bad." I whisper. Carla smiles.

"No, it's not." She hesitates. "There's more." I stiffen up, and look at her.

"We need you to spend the night at the hospital tonight." She says, looking increasingly concerned as it becomes harder for me to breathe.

I think that's when I passed out.

**Hope you like it. Please tell me what you think. Reviews really encourage me to keep going.**

**I want to thank those of you who have reviewed about every chapter (you know who you are) : ). You really, really brighten my day when I see your kind words. Thank you.**

**See ya!**


	9. Overnight

**Chapter NINE!**

**Dean's P.O.V.**

I stare at the nurse in disbelief.

"Are you serious? Spend the night?" I exclaim. I push past her into the exam room. Nurse Espinoza warned me that Indie had passed out, but my heart still lurches in fear and compassion. Indie obviously didn't take the news well. I gather her into my arms, tucking her head into the crook of my arm. She looks cold, so I slip out of my jacket, and wrap it around her.

"Why do you even need to keep her here?" I ask, looking to the nurse and the young doctor.

The blond doctor answers. "We won't get the results to the tests until early tomorrow." She says.

"So what? I could take her home, and bring her here when you do get the results." I say, relaxing slightly. Maybe they just didn't think of that.

"Sir, we would like to be able to begin treatment as soon as we get the results, if they are positive for any kind of disease." The doctor says. Dr. Cox stands by impassive. I look to him, trying to find an ally.

"Look, she's severely malnutritioned, and dehydrated." Dr. Cox says. I shake my head.

"She hasn't complained of being hungry or thirsty." I say desperately.

"Well, considering how she was raised, she might not have wanted to. It's also possible that her body has adjusted to the lack of food and fluids, and she just doesn't notice the absence." The nurse says. She pauses. "Has she been throwing up consistantly?"

I hesitate. Does every day count? "Define consistantly." I say. The nurse gives me a look. "Yes." I answer.

I know they're right. It would be best for Indie to spend the night here. That doesn't mean I need to like it though. Indie stirs in my arms. I shift, looking down at her.

"Indie," I whisper. She moves again, and seems to know that someone's holding her. I relax my arms, making it easy for her to escape if she wanted to. Instead of rolling out of my arms, though, she curls toward me, clutching my leather jacket in her fists. I gently pull her into a sitting position, and her head sags as her eyes slowly open.

"Wha…" She blinks slowly, taking everything in. I pull her toward me, tucking her face into my chest. I'm worried she has cat eyes. It happens often when she's afraid. I feel her arms pushing against me lightly, and I let her lean back. I look at her eyes, and am relieved to find that they are normal.

She sees my face. "Dean…" She trails off. Then she seems to wake up a little bit. She sits up, and stops leaning on my arms.

"Do I have to stay here?" She whispers, not looking at me.

"We both do." I say. She looks up at me, confused.

"What? You think I'm going to leave you here alone?" Relief shines in her eyes, and she hugs me. My heart swells at the gesture. For a normal kid, it wouldn't be such a big deal, but Indie's afraid of contact with any human being. So far, the only people that have been able to touch her for more than a few moments is me or Sam. So a hug from her says so much more than "thank you". It means she trusts me. Enough to stay in a scary place with strangers for a night.

I return the hug, and she tucks her head into my shoulder. I can feel tears falling on my shoulder. I push her back lightly, looking into her eyes.

"We'll be fine." I promise.

The nurses get her changed back into the hospital gown. I step out to call Sam.

"What? She has to stay the night? Why?" He asks, indignant.

"They sent her tests out of town, so they won't get here until tomorrow. She's malnutritioned and they think that she really needs to get some food into her." I answer.

Sam is silent. "Do you want me and Bobby to come?" He asks.

"No." I say. "We'll probably sleep the whole night anyways. I'll call you if I need anything."

"Sure." He says instantly.

I smile as I hang up. Sam may be huge, but he's a softy. I walk back in. She's sitting on one of the chairs, in a hospital gown. I feel a pang in my heart at how fragile and scared and small she looks. I sit in the chair next to her.

_I would to anything to protect her._ I think Then I smile. _I always wanted a younger sister._

**Indie's P.O.V.**

Carla and Elliot set me up in a "private" hospital room. In reality, the only thing private about it is that I am the only one in it. There are no blinds on the windows, and the door is kept wide open.

Dean brings me some magazines, and we spend the afternoon trying to teach me to read. To say I suck at it would be an understatement. It might take me a while to get the hang of it. Dean tells me I'm a fast learner, though. He thinks I'll get it.

At about five, we eat hospital dinner, which isn't that bad. Dean says it's horrible, and I guess it is compared to Bobby's food. But that doesn't stop me from wolfing it down. And then puking right after.

Carla puts an IV in my right hand, which I hate. I don't like the look of the tube, going into my hand. She says it's to get some nutrients into me or something. I heard them talking about a feeding tube or something, which is not something I want. Dean strongly opposed to that, and I think they agreed.

Dr. Cox comes in a few times, but he mostly talks to Elliot. Elliot is really nice. She doesn't make me feel like a doctor is inspecting me. It feels like an older sister is taking care of me. I'm so thankful she's my doctor.

At eight, Dean turns off the light, and settles back in the chair. I pull the thin sheet over me, turning my head. I close my eyes, breathing deeply.

**Dean's P.O.V.**

"Dean," A whisper comes. "Dean,"

What do they want? I was just in the middle of a great dream about...some hot chick. I don't remember the name. I try to sink back into sleep, but the voice yanks me back to consciousness.

"Dean," The voice sounds slightly tearful. A girl. Indie. Oh, shiz.

My eyes snap open, and I'm instantly alert. I stand up, staggering for a moment at the change in position. I walk over to her, and I see her sitting up. I glance at the clock. 2:34am.

"What are you doing up?" I ask. It's been a half hour since the last time the doctor on call tonight came in to check on her. She seemed to fall asleep pretty quick.

"It's this place." She says. "I don't like everyone touching me."

I pull the chair over to the side of the bed. "I know, Indie. It's only until tomorrow, though, then we-"

She cuts me off. "I keep feeling him hurting me." She whispers quietly. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, with her arms wrapped around them. She lets her head fall lightly onto her knees, and I see her shoulders lightly shaking from the tears.

"Indie…" I trail off, not sure how to help. "Is there something you want to talk about?" I ask, feeling awkward.

She looks up at me and reluctantly nods. I lean forward with my elbows on my knees. I consider turning the light on, but I feel like this might be easier for her to talk about if they are off. Indie doesn't ask me to turn them on.

"Dean," she starts. "Does it make me a bad person to...miss him?" She whispers.

I blink. This is not what I was expecting at all. "What do you mean?"

"I don't miss the things he did. But I still miss him, somehow." She looks at me with tear filled eyes. "Does that make me a bad person?"

I shake my head instantly. "No." I say. "No, of course not." I hesitate. "Why do you miss him?"

She gives a small sob. "He was the only who was ever...nice." She chokes. She looks at me, and sees my confused expression. "Dean, is it possible for people to change? Be people you never thought they were?"

I think of Dad, how he changed from a dad into a general after Mom died. I nod. "Yeah," I say. "That happens."

She pauses. "He changed." She says. "He wasn't always bad. Or as bad." Indie looks up at me, so many mixed emotions swimming in them.

"He was the first person to find me, wandering the streets of New York. He found me, and brought me back to his place." She says, staring at the blanket. "I think he meant to find my family, but he saw how I was scared of everyone, and didn't like people being near me." She gives a wry laugh. "He thought I was abused, and he didn't want to send me back to that. He had never had kids, but had always wanted them."

She looks up at me. "He wanted to protect me."

I feel my hands shaking with anger. "Protect you?" I seethe. I see Indie's stiff posture, and I realize that my anger is scaring her. I breathe, and apologize. She relaxes.

**Indie's P.O.V.**

"We moved away from New York to have a fresh start. We moved around a few times, not just once. At first, he was a...good dad. Not great, but he fed me and talked to me and never hit me or was mean to me. I think he was really trying." I say. Dean doesn't understand. But I guess I don't need someone to understand, just someone to listen.

"But then something changed. Work went bad, or he got frustrated, or he just stopped pretending. For whatever reason, a year after he found me, he changed. He'd get angry for no reason. He would hit me, and say it was my fault, for not being good enough." I say, my voice a whisper. I see Dean's fist clench. His anger makes me uncomfortable, but I feel...comforted knowing that it's not for me.

"Dean, he punished me. All the time. I hated it. But I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I thought it wasn't my choice." I start crying, remembering all those years.

"Eventually, I knew that it wasn't supposed to happen. When I was nine, there was a night he wanted me to scrub the kitchen floor for the third time that day." I say. "I should have. If I had, maybe it never would have escalated."

Dean makes a small strangled noise. I wince, but continue.

"He beat me so bad. That was the first night that my cat form took an appearence." I say hoarsely. "He was so angry. He bought a cage, said I was an animal, and stuck me in there for the rest of my time with him."

Dean stays silent.

"His friends liked to see me change into cat form. You know, entertaining. I remember he was so boastful about me, like he had taught me to do that or something. But he wasn't proud of me. He was proud...about me."

"So, how," I say. "After all of that, can I still miss him? How can I still remember the old Tom who would through a football with me, or paint, or go for a ride in the car with the windows down?" I feel my heart squeezing painfully, but no tears come.

I look over at Dean and see tears falling down his face. My heart pangs, but I can't cry anymore. I've already spent too much of my life doing that. I feel light, like a huge weight was settled on my shoulders, and I've let go of it.

I feel a hand lightly touch mine. I look over at Dean. He doesn't look disgusted. He doesn't hate me. He cares. About me.

There was a small part of my heart that was bitter with fear, resentment, anger, and shame. I feel a sort of wave overcome that small piece of my heart. It washes it out, purifying those emotions. I feel my heart squeeze again, but this time with happiness.

Dean cares about me. He and Sam. And Bobby. They care. I don't have to deal with my past on my own. They can help me.

As long as I don't have to do it alone, I know I can get through this.

**Hey guys...sorry about switching point of views in the middle of a sentence. I don't really like doing that kind of thing. However, I wanted to see Indie's confession in her perspective. **

**BTW, tell me what you thought of that chapter. I would really love it. : ) **

**See-ya!**


	10. Devil Incarnate Times Two

**I'm planning something evil for this chapter. Sort of evil. I guess. **

**Third Person P.O.V. **

Tom Masone paces the room. He glances at the computer screen, which is searching the internet for any info on missing girls. Well, one in particular. His girl.

Tom grabs the remote, hurling it across the room, yelling angrily. Where has she gone? She couldn't have gone far. Not without help. And who would help her?

Finally, the computer loads. He rushes to it, glaring at what came up. Nothing. Well, nothing about his girl. Abby. Tom growls. He lurches away from the table, stalking around the room. He shoves a lamp off the side table. It hits the ground with a crash.

Tom hears a knocking at the door. He freezes. Who could it be? The police? There's no way they could know. No way. Could there?

"Hey, buddy, why don't you open up?" a gravelly voice says. "We got a lot to discuss."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Ari was not an impatient person. He had learned to wait for things. He had waited a long time for some things. A promotion, for one. He had waited for the chance to take Fang, and that had paid off. He had waited patiently for Fang to break, and, obviously, he did.

Yes, some things were worth waiting for. However, waiting for some scumbag to open the door was definitely not worth it.

"C'mon, pal." He says. "Open the door. I don't have all day."

Reluctantly, a man opens the door. He's severely overweight, with a balding head, and meaty hands. Just your basic creep.

"You a cop?" asks the fat guy.

Ari smiles. "Nah. Just your friendly neighbor Joe. Wanna let me in?" His tone implies that it isn't a choice.

The guy hesitantly opens the door, letting Ari enter. Ari walks over to his old couch, and sits down. The fat guy stands nervously by the door, shutting it slowly.

"So, you're Tom, right?" Ari says casually.

"Who wants to know?" asks the fat guy.

Ari shrugs. "Me. And the company I work for."

Tom squints suspiciously. "Company?"

"Yeah, big guy, you're getting there." Ari encourages sarcastically. Then he straightens, and stands up.

"You did a good job taking care of it all these years." He thinks for a moment. "Well, you kept it alive, at any rate."

Tom sputters. "What?"

"The...girl. Abby." Ari clarifies. "Thanks for keeping it alive."

"Why do you care?" Tom says.

Ari holds his paw-like hand out for a handshake. "Nice to meet you. I am the creator of your little darling." He says. Then he pauses. "Well, not directly. They copied the makeup of my DNA to create the balance between homosapien and feline DNA."

Tom looks lost. Ari sighs. He continued in a slow voice, like you might use with a child. "Abby turned into a kitty-cat, right?" Tom nods. "Well, these nice fellers made her able to do that when she was really little. They studied me to know how to do that."

"Who's them?" Tom asks.

"Some very special people with some very special connections." Ari says smoothly. "And they happen to want their little prodigy experiment back."

"Meaning…" Tom says, trailing off.

"Meaning, I need your help capturing your runaway." Ari says.

"What do I get out of it?" Tom says, crossing his arms.

Ari stands back coolly, observing Tom for a few moments. "Well, I want to offer you compensation either way, for keeping it alive, but perhaps we could consider it more of a trade…" Are says, leaving out the bait.

Tom doesn't take it at first. "What if I refuse?"

Ari's eyes flashed dangerously. "Well, that would be foolish. I'm offering you a great reward." He pauses, and cuts off Tom when he tries to say something. "I sure would hate for anything to fall into the wrong hands. There is so much evidence out there Tom. So much. A lot of it could get you thrown in jail..."

Are smiles as Tom's face pales. He sputters for a moment. Then Ari continues. "Of course, I don't want the police to get their hands on any of the tapes, either, Tom. With her in them, that could raise quite a plethora of questions." He eyes Tom with one eyebrow raised.

"What do you say, Tom?" Ari says charmingly. "You want to join me?"

Tom hesitates. "What's the reward?" 

A vein twitches in Ari's neck, but other than that, he keeps his composure. "Well, I figure that a trade would be fair. A girl for a girl. A very special girl for a very special girl."

Tom looks interested. Ari smiles. It was too easy.

He blinks and comes to his senses, but still looks interested. Very interested. "What makes her so special?"

Ari smiles wickedly, and leans in close. "You see, my friend, they come from the same place that Abby does." He pauses. "This special girl has wings."

**Oh. My. God. I swear my hands forced me to bring Ari and Tom into this. But seriously, this is going to be a blast to write. I like it. (Tell me if you did) : )**

**Sorry it was short. I meant to include it in the last chapter, but...I forgot. Whoopsies. : )**

**See-ya!**


	11. Followed

**Chapter 11**

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I blink awake, feeling serene. For the first time in a long time, I had no nightmares. I stare at the white ceiling for a moment, reveling in the accomplishment. Then I roll over, and I see Dean's awake. He's looking at me, with a slight smile on his face. I smile back.

"No nightmares?" He asks. I shake my head. He stands up, and walks over to me. I look up at him, feeling well rested. Dean lightly brushes my hair off of my forehead. I lean into his touch, and sigh contentedly.

"We can leave soon, as soon as the results get here." Dean says, sitting back down in his chair.

My brow creases, and I frown. "Dean." I start. I wait until he looks at me. "What if I have...you know…" I look up at him hesitantly.

"Indie, what have I told you about 'what-ifs'?" He says, with a fake scolding expression.

I lay back on the pillow, breathing deeply. "But what if?" I whisper.

"Then we'll deal with that when we have to. But let's not count our chickens before they hatch, kay?" Dean says gently.

I look out the window, and a small pit creeps into my stomach. I can't shake the feeling that someone is watching.

Dean glances at his watch. Then he stands. My unease spirals into alarm.

"I'm going to call Sam. Give him an update." He heads for the door.

"Dean, wait!" I call, panic bleeding into my voice. He turns around, concerned.

"Please don't leave." I whisper, fear choking me.

Dean rushes to my side. He takes my hand, and holds it. His eyes lock onto mine, and he can see the terror residing in them.

"I'll only be gone a minute." He promises. "I'll just be down the hall."

I shake my head frantically, the terror growing by the minute. I know he'll come back, but I'm still scared. I feel like if he leaves, something bad could happen.

"Can you make the call from here?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Not good reception." He looks at my face, then walks to the window, and checks the locks.

"No one's getting in here, trust me." He says, but my hands are still shaking, and I still feel like I'm going to throw up.

Dean looks at me regretfully, and steps into the hallway. I know he feels horrible for this, but I understand just why he needs to do this. He and Sam keep pretty close tabs on each other. Dean knows that Sam's probably waiting by the phone, not wanting to call him in case he's sleeping, but wanting to call him nonetheless.

To settle my nerves, I focus on what I see outside. There's a small family, standing by the entrance. An old beat up truck drives into the parking lot. I squint at it. The truck parks, and two men step out. One I don't recognize. The other, though…

For a moment, all I can see is the color of panic. Flashing bright lights. I hear a high keening sound, and I realise that I'm screaming. I'm fighting to get out of the bed before Tom can get here. He's coming, and Dean's gone.

Two people in scrubs rush in. They're men, and they try to hold me down and keep me calm. Part of my brain recognises them as Dr. Cox and Dr. John Dorian, a.k.a. J.D.

"Please stop." I sob, weakly struggling. "Don't touch me, stop touching me." I whimper, giving in.

Dr. Cox let's go like I'm a hot iron. "J.D., let go." He says calmly. J.D. is so surprised that he used his actual name that he releases me. I cry out, and rip off the IV, wincing slightly at the sting. I need to get out of here. I swing my legs over the edge of the hospital bed, but they crumple as soon as they touch the floor. I don't try to get off the floor. At least I'm not on the bed.

"Oh my God, what's happening?" Carla cries as she enters. She pushes past the men, and tries to help me off the floor, but I wail, and fight to get away from her.

"Don't touch me, please don't touch me, stop touching me, don't touch me, please stop," I cry, babbling on and on.

The door bangs open again, and Dean rushes in.

"What the heck, people!" He yells. Dean shoves his way to me on the floor. I scream when he touches me, but I relax when he wraps his jacket around me. Dean kneels on the floor, pulling me into a sitting position, holding my head against his chest. He's giving me a chance to calm down. A chance to make sure that I don't change. I can feel myself trembling, but not that kind of trembling. The rocking motion lulls me until I feel slightly less panicked.

"I'm okay," I whispered quietly, so he would know I wasn't about to change. Dean loosened his cage-like grip on me, but I just curled closer to him. I started shuddering again, but still not changing-shudders. I remembered Tom. He's close. I can feel it. I push away from Dean, lurching towards the door. I have to leave.

"Whoa, hold on." Dean says, pulling me into his arms. I feel a flash of panic, then I come to my senses. This is Dean.

Dean looks down at me. I'm still struggling, but weakly. "What's wrong?" He asks quietly.

My breathing quickens, and I feel lightheaded. I try to explain, but my words come out as wheezes. "T-Tom," I manage. It sounds more like a cough than a name, but Dean understands. I point out the window. He pales, and gently sets me on the floor before looking out the window. I see him relax.

"There's no one out there, Indie." He says, crouching down next to me. I gesture for him to help me up, and he does, walking me over to the large window. I look out, but there is no sign of the black truck or the passengers. The pit in my stomach finally disappears, and I feel a huge relief, like I had been holding my breath.

Dean helps me back onto the bed. Dr. Cox pulls J.D. out of the room, and Dean thanks them for helping. I avoid eye contact with either of them. Carla says that we won't need to put the IV back in, so she just puts a Band Aid over the small wound.

"Wait, why don't we need the IV?" Dean asks.

Carla bursts into a smile. "We got the results back." She replies.

Elliot comes in. "Wait up, Carla. You're stealing my thunder." She retorts, nudging her.

"You are clean of any STDs." Elliot says.

Carla walks over to me. "You can go home." She says with a smile.

It takes me a moment to understand, but when I do, I gasp and throw my arms around her, squeezing tightly. Carla hugged me back. When we pull apart, I immediately attempt to jump off the bed to find my clothes.

"Hold on," Dean cautions, throwing out his arm to block me. I give him an exasperated look.

"I want to go _home_." I whine, pushing against his arm.

Carla and Elliot laugh. "I had no idea we were so unbearable," Carla jokes.

"Please, I knew that." Elliot says, and I have to look at her to see if she's joking or not.

Carla brings me my clothes, and Dean helps me to the changing room. I change in seconds, fighting off the wave of dizziness. I push open the curtain, and fall into Dean's arms.

"Oops." I say, smiling. Dean smiles and shakes his head.

The next hour is mostly a blur to me. Dean signs paperwork, doctors say goodbye, Carla gives me a hug, creepy Dr. Kelso gives me a pat on the shoulder and a cold look to Dr. Cox, and we're out the door.

Dean get's me settled into the front seat, and then crosses in front of the Impala to the drivers side. We start driving, but I get that uneasy feeling again, like someone is following us. I glance around, but don't see the black truck.

**Third Person P.O.V.**

Ari took a deep breath and reminded himself for the thousandth time that he needed this man, and that he shouldn't kill him. Not yet. Ugh.

"She was in that hospital. Why didn't we go and get her?" Tom complained for the thousandth time.

And for the thousandth time, Ari patiently explained through his teeth. "We had to follow them back since we don't know where they are staying. If we had just taken the girl, you never would have gotten your reward." He said smoothly. _And my plan would never work._ Ari thought.

Ari made sure to stay out of sight of the Impala driving in front of them, but he was careful to follow them carefully. He couldn't lose track of them. That would ruin all of his plans.

**Indie's P.O.V.**

When we finally drive into Bobby's parking lot, I practically threw myself out of the car. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see a bunch of old cars.

I lean back into the car for a moment, and hand Dean his amulet back. He looks relieved to see it. I'm a little sad to let it go, but it isn't mine. It's Deans.

Sam is standing by the front door. I walk up with Dean, and smile at him. He smiles back hesitantly. When I reach the the door, he awkwardly holds the door open for me. I walk inside, but as soon as he shuts the door, I turn and give him a hug. I can feel his body stiffen up with shock. Before I went to the hospital, I had warmed up slightly to the boys and Bobby, but I had only touched and spoken with them when absolutely nessessary. Now, I was hugging him.

Honestly, I wanted to tell him how thankful I was that they had rescued me. I wanted to say so much but I didn't want to use all of the words. If I have learned one thing from my experiences, it's that people will forget your words in a heartbeat, but your actions will stay with them forever.

When I pull away from him, he looks confused, but happy. I immediately turn to Dean and hug him to. I look at his expression, and it says _Oh, well, if I have to,_ but he hugs me back anyways.

I walk into the kitchen to Bobby and give him a hug as well. Then I head up to my room.

**Sam's P.O.V.**

I stare after Indie, watching her walk up the stairs. I can't believe it. Yesterday, the most she had interacted with me at all was to say "Pass the butter," during breakfast. And then, of course, "I'm gonna puke," but that was more a general statement.

Now, less than twelve hours later, she's hugging me.

"Dude," I say to Dean. "What the heck happened at that hospital?"

He looks at me with an exhausted expression. "You have no idea,"

**Phew! I don't know why this chapter took so long to write. My apologies. **

**I have a question for you. When I write in third person about Ari and Tom, it feels more natural to me to write in past tense, so that's how I tried to write it this chapter. Do you think it sounds okay, or is it too weird to have the tenses switching all the time?**

**As always, I would love it for you to review!**

**See-ya!**


	12. Meeting the Flock

**Hey, guys. Thanks for all the reviews you've given me so far. It's nice to know that you like it enough to give some feedback. **

**Enjoy chapter 12! : )**

**Max's P.O.V.**

"Bet you can't drink that whole slushie in ten seconds!" Gazzy cheers to Iggy.

"Ha!" Iggy laughs. "I bet I can!" He starts chugging down the flavored ice. I wince.

I look over at Fang, and he's smiling and shaking his head. My heart melts. He looks happy. I'm glad. I was worried that he wouldn't get over what happened last year. What with Ari, the hunters, and all that. I still shudder to remember it.

Iggy slams the empty cup down onto the table, and buries his head in his arms, moaning. Angel starts shrieking with laughter, and Nudge gently shushes her with a glance around. My smile frowns. I hate to see Nudge acting like the grown up. None of us are grown up, exactly, but Fang and I act as the parents of the flock. I wish Nudge would let us be in charge, and not take all that weight on her shoulders, but I don't think she trusts us a whole lot.

Total laughs from the ground beneath our table. Fang not-so-gently kicks him.

"Would you shut up?" He hisses. "Normal dogs don't laugh."

Total sticks out his tongue, which looks so wrong on a dog. This time I touch him with my shoe.

"Total, chill out." I say, reaching below to scratch behind his ears. Reluctantly, he leans into my touch, his back leg kicking out subconsciously.

Total had wanted to spend some time with his "girlfriend", Akila, last year, so he hadn't been here for the abduction of Fang. We hadn't been able to get in touch with him, so he just found out before we went to Antarctica. He wasn't too happy to hear about it, and was making a conscious effort to be nice to Fang. Kind of. For instance, instead of shedding all over his pillow, he chose to shed on his bedspread. Or instead of peeing on his shoes when Fang took him outside, he waited until they were inside, and did his business right inside the door. Nice, huh?

I look up at the Kerby's Slushies sign, spotting a robin sitting on one of the large letters. We had stopped here after finally returning from the Antarctica trip. I figured we deserved this small treat before getting back to Bobby's.

I hear my phone ring. My gaze darts down to my backpack. I dig out the small flip-phone. Bobby gave it to me for emergencies, in case he needed to get in touch. I hesitate for a moment, and then I open it.

"Hello?" I ask. The flock is watching me, frozen. Even Total is motionless.

"Max?" A voice says. I know that voice, but I can't remember who.

"Who is this?" I ask.

"Sam." He says. I turn to the flock and start to mouth _Sam_, but Angel beats me to it.

"It's Sam." She informs them. I make a face at her.

Fang leans forward on the table. He'll always be closer to the Winchesters than the rest of the flock. He was with them longer. Although I'm thankful to them for helping him, I still fill a stir of jealousy because they were able to help him when I couldn't. I see Angel meet my eyes. I know that she feels the same way.

"What's up?" I ask.

"We...when are you going to be back?" He says. I raise my eyebrows. Angel whispers what he said to the flock.

"What's going on?" I ask, my voice steely. If Ari had come back, or those hunters...

"Nothing bad." He assures me. Then he pauses. "Well, not anymore."

"Sam." I say in my warning voice, warning him that if he doesn't tell me what's happening without the stupid Yoda impression, I'm going to hang up.

I hear someone in the background. "_Sam, give me the phone." _It sounds like Dean.

"Max." Yep, Dean. "This is Dean." Obviously. "There's something you're gonna want to see." He states. "I can't tell you over the phone, but it isn't dangerous, and you really need to see it." There's a large pause. "Her."

I blink. "Her?"

"Yeah. How soon can you get here?" Dean says. I turn to Iggy. He holds up two fingers.

"Give us two hours." I say. "See you then." I close the phone.

I turn to the flock. "Let's get going."

They nod, and without another word, they toss away their trash walk to an alley. Then we take to the skies.

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I sit at the kitchen table, watching Dean talk to Max. I'm bouncing up and down, getting excited. I can't wait to meet these kids. Sam and Dean think they may have come from where I came from.

I sit on the porch, anxiously waiting for them to appear. I check the small watch on my hand. Fifteen minutes left to wait. I watch the horizon, looking for shapes.

Then, I see it. Black shapes. The flock.

My breathing speeds, and I sprint for the door. "Dean! Sam! Bobby!" I shout. "They're here!"

I rush back to the front of the house, watching the shapes grow larger by the second. I hear the men come out behind me. Finally, the flock gets close enough for me to distinguish each of them, I'm overcome with a bout of shyness. I back up, and hide behind Dean. He shoots me an amused look, but doesn't push it.

The flock lands in front of us. They stand in a V formation, with, whom I'm guessing is Max, standing in front. One of them holds a dog. I hide behind Dean, peeking out through his arms. I feel like a five year old.

"Dean." Max says coolly. "Where's the surprise?"

My heart pounds in my throat, and I feel sick. They look so powerful and dangerous. I think I've changed my mind. Dean gently reaches behind him, and pulls me out. I allow him to drag me out, but I stay right next to him.

"Wow, Dean, you finally managed to find a girl." Max says. "Although, you might want to wait a few more years to get married."

Dean doesn't snap back. "Max, come on. Can we talk inside?"

Max nods, and our whole parade walks inside. We crowd around the kitchen. I sit on a chair at the kitchen table, with Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge sitting in the other three. The others stand around the table in a lopsided, holey circle. I watch the dog cautiously. Dogs tend to hate me. Not just like they don't like cats, but with a serious hate that makes them want to kill me.

This dog, however, only gives me a sideways glance of suspicion. Nudge sees me watching him.

"This is Total." She introduces. I nod stiffly. 

"So what's the story?" Max asks. I look over at Dean and Sam. Fang nods at them, and they nod back. Basic man greeting. I roll my eyes.

Dean quickly explains the situation. There's a crease in Max's brow that get's more prominent the longer he talks.

"We think she was at the school for a while." He explains. "After that...someone found her." He glances at me, but I can't meet his gaze.

"He...wasn't nice." Dean says cautiously, with a glance towards the younger kids. Max follows his eyes.

"Nudge, take Angel and Gazzy out." She looks at Angel. "Keep out of this discussion, got it?" Angel pouts, but nods. Total hops off of Nudge's lap, and settles under the table.

Max moves closer, and Fang and Iggy move in to close up our little circle.

"What happened?" She asks, not looking at me.

"He...abused her." Dean whispers. My face burns. I stare at the floor. I look up at Max, Fang, and Iggy for a second, and then my gaze rockets back to the ground. Max is blinking rapidly, and fury is written across her features. Fang looks impassive, but I can see the anger and pain in his eyes. Iggy walks over to me, and places a hand on my shoulder. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't do anything other than that. But for some reason, that gesture almost moves me to tears. I blink, and keep the tears in. I hear a growl below the table, and a small nose nudges my leg.

"How long?" Max asks. Iggy squeezes my shoulder.

"Eight years." I whisper, still staring at the table. Iggy's hand freezes. I hesitantly look up at Max and Fang, but their expressions aren't what I expected at all. They look confused, like they weren't expecting me to talk. Max cocks her head.

"What?" Iggy asks.

"Eight years." I repeat. "He had me eight years."

Iggy makes a sound in the back of his throat, but it doesn't sound like the strangled noise that Dean once made. It sounds more like surprise.

"What's your name?" Fang asks quietly.

"Indie." I say.

Dean touches my arm. "Indie, can you show them...you know…" He trails off. Max looks at him with alarm, but I'm too busy concentrating to care.

I shake and tremble. I can feel Iggy lurch away from me. I curl up, feeling the odd sensation of changing. I close my eyes tight, and when I open them again, I see everyone standing above me, dumbfounded. I hop up on the table, purring. Total yelps, and sniffs me. I back away, but he seems nice.

"Oh my God." Max stares at me. "Kitty."

I stop, and stare at her. You'd think she would know what a cat looks like. Total seems to follow my thoughts.

"Max, you know what cats are, don't you?" Total says. I start. He can talk. That's...new. Honestly, though, not the weirdest thing that I've heard of.

Fang's eyes open wide. "No way." He stares at me, astounded.

Am I missing something? Iggy leans down hesitantly, and scratches behind my ears. A purr bursts out of my throat, and I remember something.

_I look at the dog crate next to me. Iggy sits there, humming quietly._

"_Kitty." I hear the slight whisper. I turn to the other side and see Maxy. _

"_Yeah?" I say._

"_Can you show me?" She asks. I nod. I concentrate. I feel the shaking, and the changing. _

_I look at Maxy, in cat. She claps quietly, aware that if she makes too much noise, the Erasers will come in. _

_I stretch my tail through the bars, barely managing to reach her. Maxy gently touches the tip of my tail, and she sighs. _

_When the doctors let us out of the cages to stretch our legs, I walk over to Iggy, and press my head into his wandering hand. He expertly scratches all over, until he finds that special place, right behind my ears. A purr bursts from my throat, and I feel content, something that doesn't happen often around here._

I blink, staring up at Iggy. I meow, pressing myself harder against him, purring louder. Then I scramble over to Max and Fang, meowing and purring and pawing at them. Max laughs, and smiles. Fang offers a smiles, and lifts me up. I press my head under his chin, and just for kicks, lick him.

"Hey, Kitty, that's my man." Max scolds. I glare at her, and rub my face against him to taunt her. She laughs, and pulls me away from Fang. She gives me a hug, burying her face in my fur.

"I thought you were dead." She whispers.

Sam, Dean, and Bobby have been watching this whole exchange with shocked expressions.

"What?" Dean asks, pretty much summing up what they were all thinking.

Fang answers. "Kitty...Indie..._was_ at the School. She was the most successful experiment, even more than the Erasers. They were shipping her to another School in New York, but she got loose. She escaped, and they never found her." He shrugs. "We thought she died. The scientist chose to pretend that she never existed, basically wiping her from all their databases, so that they couldn't be blamed for the failure."

"So you knew her?" Sam asks. I nod. I remember them.

I hop out of Max's arms, and drag my clothes to the bathroom.

**Two Hours Later**

I lay down on Max's bed. She said it was okay for us to share a room. Bobby moved an extra mattress into the room. It makes it seem smaller, but it makes me feel less alone. I like it. Max sits on the mattress, fluffing her pillow.

I gently lay back on the pillows, pulling the covers up. Max gets up, and flips the light off. She walks over to my bed, and leans over me. She gives me a half hug, and walks over to her bed.

"You know, I'm really glad you're safe, Kitty." She lays down and I smile. The flock calls me Kitty. The hunters call me Indie. I'm loved and appreciated by so many people. More than I could ever imagine.

**Max's P.O.V.**

It's different, sleeping on the floor. I'm used to sleeping on the bed when I'm in my room. I wake up every few hours or so, but I feel more rested every time, so I don't mind.

Around one o'clock, however, I wake up to something else. I hear a whimpering. The first thing I think of is Nudge, since she sometimes has nightmares about Fang leaving, but then I realize where I was, and who that sound had to be coming from. I look up at the bed, and see Kitty cringing in the sheets. They're tangled up around her, and she looks sweaty. I crawl over to her.

"_Please...no...don't...please...stop...no…don't...please stop...no more…" _She cries and whispers. I cover my mouth. I gently take her shoulders, but she winces, and squirms away from me.

"_Tom, no. Please stop. I can't. No more." _She cries.

"Hey, Kitty." I whisper. "You gotta wake up. C'mon." It has no effect.

"_Tom, please stop. No. No. No. NONONO!"_ Her whispers escalate into screeches, and I lurch back. She starts thrashing around, and crying. I rip the sheet away from her, and slap her across the face. Her eyes fly open, and for a moment, she struggles to get away from me. I wrap my arms around her, keeping her still.

She seems in shock. Then Kitty looks up at my face, sees my gentle expression, and bursts into tears. She sobs, and clutches me. I set my head on top of hers, and rock back and forth.

"Shh, shh, Kitty, it's okay." I say calmly, stroking her hair. "Just let it out. It will feel better."

She cries for ten minutes straight, and then her sobs slow to hiccups, and the waterfall of tears gradually turns to a trickle. She falls asleep in my arms, and I lean back slowly, still holding her, and I fall asleep hugging Kitty.

**There you go. I hope you thought everything was in character. Let me know.**

**If you notice any typos in the chapters, tell me in the reviews. I try to look over my writing, but if I knew specific things that were wrong, I might be able to fix them.**

**As usual, any feedback you can offer would be fantastic.**

**See-ya!**


	13. Everything Goes Wrong

**Chapter 13**

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I wake up, and go rigid. Someone has their arms around me. I slam my eyes shut. My breathing quickens, and I slowly try to move away.

The form next to me shifts. They sit up, and I flinch away, squinting up.

"Indie?" They say sleepily. I blink, and focus on the face. The light hits them, and I relax. Max. I'm okay.

"Yeah," I say tiredly. I sit up next to her, and slip out of bed.

She follows me down to the kitchen. I look at the clock on the wall, which says it's about 8:30 in the morning. I sit at the table, and put my head in my arms. I feel a tap on my arm, but I groan and shake it off.

"Indie," Dean says. I groggily lift my head.

"Let's talk," He says. I look around, and I see everyone standing in the kitchen.

"What?" I ask. Dean sits in the chair next to me.

"At the hospital, you said you saw Tom." Dean says gently. I stare at the table cloth and nod.

"Do you think you really saw him?" Sam asks.

"Yes. No. Maybe." I sigh. "I think I did, but it could have just been...I don't know. I'm pretty sure it was him." I say.

"Was he alone?" Iggy asks. I shake my head.

"It was hard to make out the second person." I say, thinking. "He was tall. Really, freakishly tall. Almost as tall as Sam." Dean laughs and nudges Sam, and Sam rolls his eyes and smiles.

I continue. "This guy seemed like mid-twenties or something, and he was hairy. Really hairy. I remember the old black truck they came in-"

I hear a strangled sound, and I look up to see Fang gripping the counter in a panic. He's gone pale, and looks shaky.

"Fang!" Max yells. She darts to his side, and takes his face in her hands. She starts murmuring quietly to him, but he reaches up and takes her hands away from his face. He looks at Sam and Dean.

"It's Ari." He says, still shaken. Sam and Dean exchange a look of worry.

"Who's Ari?" I ask.

"He isn't a good person." Dean says. "It's better to stay away from him."

"Well, if he followed you to the hospital, there's a chance that he followed you here." Max looks to Angel. "Angel, could you do a general scouting mission around? Make sure he isn't too close." She turns to Iggy, Nudge, and Gazzy. "Look in online papers and websites, security cameras, and anything else you can think of. I want to know what he's planning."

They nod and go their separate ways. Max turns to Fang.

"You need to lay down." Max says to Fang. He looks away, and shakes his head.

"No. I can go with Angel." He starts for the door, but Max catches him.

"You aren't going anywhere." She starts pulling him toward the front room.

Angrily, Fang shoves her. Not hard, but hard enough. "Stop it, Max. I'm not a kid. And I don't need you treating me like some fragile infant." He storms out of the room, leaving Max stunned.

She reminds me a little of that first morning, when I had the misunderstanding with Sam. Max looks just as frozen now as I felt then. I stand up, and walk over to her.

"You know, Fang's a guy. It's basically written in their DNA to push away any attempts at kindness and sympathy. It isn't your fault." I say. Max looks gratefully at me.

"I know. I just wish he would for once just admit that he's hurting." She says. "I feel like he's pushing me away every chance he gets."

I swallow. "People who go through what he went through...they don't come out of that...unchanged."

Max looks at me, and sits down on a chair with her head in her hands. I sit next to her.

"When Sam and Dean found me, I didn't want anything to do with them. I was scared to depend on anyone, because I didn't want to be let down."

Max sighs. "But how do I show Fang that he doesn't need to pretend? That I know what he went through, and I want to help?"

I smile lightly. "If it was a girl, I would say talk to her. But since it's a boy...you have to show them that you are there for them."

Max sniffs, and looks over at me. "How?"

I pause. "Words are meaningless." I say quietly. "People lie all the time with them. But actions...you will never forget actions."

Max nods and leaves the kitchen, walking after Fang.

**Fang's P.O.V.**

I feel so stupid, pushing Max like that. She doesn't deserve to be pushed. She was trying to help. But I don't need to be treated like a baby. The news of Ari shocked me, but I'm stronger than that. He can't get to me. Not anymore.

I walk to my room, and start to enter, but then I pause. I need to be alone. If I stay here, Max will come in a matter of minutes. I turn away, instead going to a closet in the hallway. There is a small opening at the bottom, and I crouch down, feeling stupid.

I sit in the small space, shutting the door. Complete darkness. My heart jolts in panic. I breathe, trying to stay calm, but it's impossible.

"_Freak!" Ari shouts, brandishing the whip. _

I whimper, tucking my face into my knees.

"_You can't protect Max! I could take her at any moment! You couldn't stop me!" Ari shrieks, spitting in my face as I dangle from the wall, beaten and bruised._

I jerk my head up, lashing out blindly for the door. I can't find it. I'm trapped.

_I stare up at Ari through the bars on my cage. It's far too small for me, and I have to stay crouched, squished into a ball. My breathing is labored. I feel like the walls of the already tiny cage are closing in even more, about to crush me._

"_Somethin' wrong, Fang?" Ari taunts, swinging a small remote in a circle. He grips the remote with a single button on it, and presses his thumb against the small button. Electricity rushes through the bars of the cage. I roar, feeling the sparks burn me as well. _

I reach the door handle, and I tumble out, landing in a heap on the floor.

"Fang?" Nudge is standing with a glass of water. She sees me, tears on my face, and fear in my eyes, and she drops the glass.

"Fang!" She yells. Nudge races forward, but I lurch away from her, dodging through the hallways. I see a window at the end of the hallay. My claustrophobia rockets up a few meters, and I crash straight through the window, not even bothering to stop and open it.

Nudge screams, but I don't stop. I fly towards the woods, leaving the problems behind me.

**Third Person P.O.V.**

Ari glares up at the sun, watching Angel make another lap around the house. He looks at Tom, snoozing beside him. Ari smiles wickedly. Finally, his plans are coming to a head.

Ari hears a crash. He pulls out the binoculars beside him, and points them to the house. He sees his old friend, Fang, flying out. Perfect.

Ari jostles the fat man next to him. Tom snorts awake.

"Wha…?" He says, wiping drool from his chin.

Ari looks Tom straight in the eye. "You ready for some bird hunting?"

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

They crouch down in a clearing, with the tranq pointed to the sky.

"Just wait." Ari says. "She'll come."

In a minute, they see a small figure scouring the ground. Ari hefts the gun farther up onto his shoulder, and takes aim.

**Angels P.O.V.**

I look around on the ground. I hear murmurings of thoughts, but nothing strong. As I cross over a clearing, the thoughts clear up.

_Oh, we almost got her. She better be worth all this hassle. I could have gotten six girls in the time it's taken to get this one._

I frown, and shudder. Who? The name hits me. Tom. He's down there. Hunting for someone. I have to stop it.

I start to spiral downward, scanning the ground for him. I feel a small pit of excitement in my stomach. Max would never have let me do this. She never lets me do anything. She thinks I'm just a baby. Well, I'll prove her wrong.

I land on the grass softly, listening for the thoughts. Where did he go? I spin around, looking at the bushes.

Suddenly, I hear a loud _BANG, _ and I feel a burst of pain in my shoulder. I look down and see a dart sticking out of my shoulder. Uh oh. This is bad.

The sunlight gets too bright, and the ground rushes up to meet me. I land heavily. Darkness edges my vision, and I feel sick.

I see Ari come up. Along with Tom.

_So beautiful. _Tom thinks.

I was wrong. He wasn't hunting for someone. He was hunting for me.

**Fang's P.O.V.**

I crash through the trees, not bothering to care where I'm going. I just need to get away. I look over the trees, and I see Angel, flying. I smile slightly, but start to veer away from her. I look back, and I see her flying down. That makes me pause. Angel wasn't supposed to fly down to check things out. She was supposed to do an aerial review. I start to fly over to her.

I watch the trees zoom below me as I fly, and I smile slightly. My life sucks, but at least I get this small highlight. Not everything is screwed up.

_BANG. _My heart stops. I put in an extra burst of speed, and scan the clearing below me.

Ari leans over Angel, who's unconscious on the ground. Someone stands over his shoulder. Tom. It has to be. I see Ari lean down, and lightly trace her face with his claw.

My vision turns to red, and I speed towards him. I crash into Ari, ignoring the pain. I slam my fists into his face over and over. Ari doesn't try to fight me off. He just lets it happen. He does try to block his face, but I repeatedly smash my hands into his jaw, his eyes, his nose. There is blood everywhere, but that only fuels my rage.

_BANG._

I feel a sharp pain in the back of my shoulder. I ignore it at first, thinking I've been shot.

_If I die, I'm taking you with me. _I think sharply.

Suddenly, though, the world starts to go fuzzy. My center of balance goes off kilter, and I tip sideways. Ari shoves me off, and slams a punch of his own across my jaw. Ari wipes off his mouth, and grins at me.

"Miss me?" Ari says.

I am so dead.

**Please tell me what you thought. I would love it.**

**Til next chapter! Thanks! : )**


	14. Captive Again

**Chapter 14**

**Max's P.O.V.**

I look around Fang's room. He isn't here. I thought he would be. Now where do I look?

"Max! Max!" Nudge sprints into the room, sobbing. I catch her, and hold her at arms length. She tries to choke out a sentence, but it only comes out as sobbing and hiccups.

"Nudge! Breathe. What's wrong?" I ask.

"It's Fang!" She cries. "He jumped out a window!"

I freeze. "What do you mean?"

"He was having some kind of panic attack. He fell out of the closet, and I came toward him, and he just freaked." She answers, hiccuping slightly.

"It's okay, Nudge. I don't blame you." I say, pulling her into a hug. "Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure." She answers. "I can show you which window he left in."

I hear a bellow echo through the house. Nudge winces.

"I think Bobby already found it." She says quietly. I shoot her an alarmed look, and set off to find Bobby. I find him down the south hallway, standing next to a totally decimated window.

"Wow." I whisper. I walk up to the hole, and peer through. I don't see Fang anywhere, but that doesn't mean he isn't nearby. I hop delicately through the hole, and start flying in slow circles around the house, scanning the ground for any movement.

I've made my third lap when I hear a loud _BANG._ I stop, faltering for a moment. Was that Fang? What was that shot? I start flying towards the sound, when I spot a small black shape flying towards the same place I am. I shout, hoping to draw his attention, but the wind is blowing in my direction, and he can't hear me. I see the figure dive, and I put in an extra burst of speed.

I hear a second _BANG_. No. I fly as fast as I can, but I still only get there in time to see a black truck drive away from a clearing, dirt churning under the wheels. I fly down, landing lightly on the grass. I see something a few yards away. My heart sinks as I come closer.

Two feathers lay side by side, bright against the green backdrop. One is black, and the other is white. Angel and Fang.

**Fang's P.O.V.**

I wake to the sound of crying. I blink, and try to roll over, but I can't. I'm tied to something. My arms are stuck, and my legs are, too. I can lift my head, though, and when I do, I see that I'm tied up, strapped to some kind of board, standing up vertically. . I look to my right, and I see that Angel is tied up in the same way.

"Angel." I rasp. She looks over at me. She doesn't look hurt, and I feel myself go limp with relief.

"Your face." She whispers.

I blink, wincing at the pain. "Don't worry, this is probably an improvement." I say, hoping to get her to laugh. She offers a small smile, but immediately blanches in fear. The door creaks open, and Ari steps into the room.

"Don't sell yourself short, Fang." Ari says, sliding out of the shadows. I feel my heart thud in panic, but I keep my face emotionless. Ari steps right next to me. He reaches towards my face with his hand, and I flinch.

"You are one handsome guy." Ari whispers, stroking my face with his claw. I lean away from him, and glare. Ari raises an eyebrow.

"Fine." He says, stepping away from my board. "You'd rather I say hi to Angel?" He asks playfully, sliding towards her. Angel bares her teeth. She opens her mouth, but Ari slams a paw over it. Angel whimpers, her eyes staring at me, begging for help. I can't do anything.

"Ah, ah, ah," He tsks. "We can't have you spoiling the game before it's over, can we?" He says, grabbing something behind him.

"Don't touch her!" I shout, trying to draw his attention to me instead of her.

Ari pays me no mind, and brings his hand around to the front. He has a sock, and a roll of duct tape.

"No." I say. "Ari don't. She's just a kid." I plead, trying to appeal to whatever sense of humanity he has left.

Ari looks over at me, shaking his head. "She's a kid with an ability. It sucks, but that's the way it works."

He then looks down at Angel. "Don't worry, hon, this won't hurt."

She stares up at him fearfully. Ari uncovers her mouth, and she opens it again, but he jams the sock through her lips. Angel lets out a choking cry.

"You bastard!" I shout. Ari freezes for a split second. I'm going to pay for that later.

He takes a strip of duct tape off, and places it over the sock, and her mouth. A gag. Angel cries, but you can't hear a sound.

"There, that should help." Ari says. He steps back, looking at her, as she cries. He turns back to me, satisfied that she won't be able to say a thing. Ari cocks his head, giving me a once-over.

"You know, you look pretty good, Fang." Ari says. Then he grins. "Let's see if we can change that in the course of a few hours, huh?"

**Indie's P.O.V.**

As soon as Max leaves to find Fang, I walk up to Dean.

"I need to learn how to fight." I say. Dean raises his eyebrows.

I continue. "With Tom and Ari around, I don't want to be defenseless." I explain. "Will you show me how to fight?"

He smiles, and nods. Dean leads me out back, where he demonstrates how to stand, where to hold your hands, and how to throw a punch. He explains that you want to hit soft spots if you are using your fist. If you hit something hard, like a skull, you might hurt your hand.

"But you hit people in the face all the time. I heard you and Sam talking about it." I say.

Dean shrugs. "I'm bigger." I make a face, and he nods. "I'm serious. I've been fighting for a long time. My hands are stronger. Your hands are not."

I nod, and he spars with me a little. I can tell he isn't really trying, but I get the feel of how to fight. I sit down on the bench, breathing heavily.

"Thanks." I gasp, holding my side. Dean laughs. I laugh with him.

We both somber up when we hear shouting from inside. We both rush in to hear Max crying.

"Ari has Fang and Angel." Iggy whispers to us. I freeze. Dean moves to Sam, and starts murmuring. Sam nods, then shakes his head, then nods again. It doesn't matter. They're gone.

"What can we do?" Nudge asks.

Max shakes her head. "I've checked that clearing all over. The tire tracks only go about ten feet, and then the ground gets too messed up to pick them out."

Dean and Sam exchange a look.

"Why do they want Angel?" I wonder. Gazzy turns to look at me.

"We know maybe why they took Fang, right? Unfinished business. Or something. But why Angel?" I murmur, mostly to myself.

"They took her a few years ago." Gazzy points out. "Maybe they want her again." He shudders at the thought.

"Maybe." I say, but I don't really believe it. That just doesn't seem right.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

I stare at the clock. I rest my head on the wall. I've been sitting here ever since Sam and Dean left to check the clearing. They left about three hours ago. Everyone else is pacing. Or sitting, like me.

The door opens. Everyone's attention turns to the boys. They shake their head sadly. I feel tears well up in my eyes. I stand, ready to walk up to my room, when we all hear an engine rumble in Bobby's parking lot. I freeze, then sprint outside. Everyone else follows me.

I stop short, seeing the black truck. It rumbles again, backing out of the lot. I walk numbly towards it, knowing that Fang and Angel are in there. Dean grabs my arm, but walks with me. Sam walks on my other side. Bobby walks next to Sam, and the flock follows behind. Or what's left of it.

The truck stops fifteen feet away from us, and Dean sticks his arm out to keep me from darting forward. Ari steps out first, holding something in his arms. Fang.

Max wails, seeing him. Fang has been beaten. Blood stains his pants. He looks terrible. I gasp, covering my mouth. Sam and Dean stiffen, and I hear Dean mutter, "I'm going to kill him."

Fang has a chain around his wrists, which are bound in front of him. He's shirtless, and bruises and cuts litter his body.

The passenger door opens and Tom steps out. I feel my chest squeeze, and Sam places his hand on my shoulder.

Tom's holding an unconscious Angel in his arms. His eyes meet mine, and I blanche. He is beyond madness now. There is no helping him.

Ari calls out over the gap. "How're you all doin'?" He yells. "I'm doing great."

"Ari, you self centered bastard, I will kill you!" Max screams as Iggy holds her, immobile.

"Sticks and stones, Max, sticks and stones." Ari says, keeping his eyes on me. "Tell you what. You all seem to be pretty upset about poor Fang's condition here. What if I said I'd give 'im back?" He raises an eyebrow. I know what he wants.

"If you don't give him back this second, I'm going to tear you limb from limb, and I'm going to enjoy it." Dean warns, gripping my arm tightly.

"You can have him back." Ari says. "He wasn't really any use to me. Screamed pretty loud, though." Ari says with a nasty smirk.

"What do you want, then?" Sam calls out, keeping a cool head. He, Bobby, and I seem to be the only ones keeping calm.

"Funny you should ask, Sammy." Ari says. I hear Sam mumble next to me, "It's Sam." It brings a glimpse of a smile to my face, but then it's gone.

"I want something that disappeared a while ago. I've been personally searching for it, really with no luck." Ari says. My heart pounds, but I only narrow my eyes, and glare daggers at him.

"I think Indie knows who I'm talking about, don't you?" Ari says with a twisted smile. Dean turns to me.

"What's he talking about?" Dean asks sharply.

"Me." I say. "He wants me."

Dean steps in front of me. "You're going to have to go through me to get her." Dean says. I'm touched by the gesture, but I know I have to go. I have to protect Angel and Fang.

"That's wrong, Dean. I don't need to go through you. I can go through Fang." My eyes widen, and I shove my way in front of Dean and Sam. Ari stands, with a knife jabbed up under Fang's chin. I look in Fang's eyes, and I see pain, exhaustion, and also fear. Mostly fear.

I stumble forward a few steps, but Dean grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

"Now, now, Dean. Better let her come. If you don't, Feathers here could get hurt." Ari says, nudging Fang.

"No." Dean says. "It's not going to happen, Ari. Not like this."

Ari cocks his head. I can smell his frustration, feel his anger. "Would you rather it happened like _this?_" He takes a firm hold on the knife, and slices across Fang's stomach.

Max screams, Nudge screams, Gazzy screams. I lurch away from Dean, pushing off Sam's hand. I stumble forward, watching the blood run down Fang. I reach him, and I take his face in my hands.

"You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay, you're going to be okay." I mumble, as Fang gasps. I look at the cut, and I realize it isn't as bad as it looks. It's deep, but it didn't hit anything internal. I look around for some kind of bandage, when Fang's chain is released, and one slips over my neck. I freeze, then look up. Ari looks giddy, and is holding the other end.

"C'mon, stand up." He orders. I do so quickly, so we can leave. The faster we leave, the faster they can help Fang. Ari leads me to the truck, and sticks me in the small backseat. Tom shoves Angel in next to me.

"No. Ari, you said you would let them go." I say, desperation lining my voice.

Ari laughs. "I said I would let Fang go. I never said anything about Angel."

Tom laughs as well, making me shiver. "That's right. Angel here is my prize."

My eye widen as I realize what he means. "No. NO. You can't. You wouldn't."

Tom nods. "She's all mine."

"She's a child! A baby! You can't do that, you monster!" I shriek.

"You have more of a mouth on you than I remember." Tom says as a warning. He looks over at Ari. "I apologize. She was never this misbehaved before."

Ari shrugs with a smile. "No harm done. Besides, I'll get her trained before long."

I blink tears away, staring out the window. I feel traces of Abby coming back to me. Little docile feelings, submissive gestures, captive thoughts. I shake my head. No. I can't be her. I can't protect Angel if I'm playing the part of the victim. I have to be the hero. I have to be Indie.

**There you go. I need to figure out where this story is going to go from now on, so it could be a little bit before I get the next chapter up. We'll see.**

**I was wondering, should Indie kill Tom? Or Ari? I was wondering about that. Tell me what you think.**


	15. Murder and Death

**Chapter 15**

**Sam's P.O.V.**

I watch as Indie stumbles forward, straight into the arms of Ari. He slips a leash over her neck, and she kneels on the ground, holding Fang. Indie glares up at Ari, defiance radiating from her in waves. She stands, and allows Ari to herd her into the car. Tom places Angel next to her in the backseat, and I can hear Nudge crying. The black truck drives off, leaving Fang bleeding in the dirt.

Dean and I sprint up to Fang. Weakly, he opens his eyes. Dean lifts his head off the ground, and Fang offers a miniscule smile, which looks more like a grimace. Fang coughs, and clutches at his side.

"We keep meeting like this." Fang rasps. I smile absentmindedly, checking over his body. Is it safe to move him?

"Yeah, let's not make it a regular thing, huh?" Dean says sternly. Max comes up behind us. She kneels by Fang's head.

"Hey." She says quietly. "You look worse than usual."

Fang nods, and winces. "Yeah, I kinda noticed."

Dean runs a hand over Fangs midsection, stopping when Fang hisses. Gently, he presses down on the spot, and Fang flinches away, gasping. Max holds Fang's head on her lap, gingerly keeping his shoulders still.

"Sorry, Fang." Dean whispers. He looks up at me. "Snapped a rib."

I make a sympathetic face. Max is murmuring quietly to Fang. Sweat glistens on his forehead. Narrowing my eyes, I reach forward and place my palm on his forehead. Hot. I pull my hand back, and I look up at Dean.

"We need to get him inside." I say urgently. "Now."

Dean senses the seriousness of the situation, and quickly signals to bring Bobby over to us.

"We need some kind of board." Dean says, looking around. Bobby walks to the other side of a car, and brings around two thin boards. He ties them together, and brings them to us.

Carefully, Dean and I transfer Fang onto the makeshift stretcher, and we stand up. We carry him into the kitchen, and set him on the table. Max follows, and she holds Fang's hand. Iggy herds the rest of the flock into the front room, away from the chaos. Total stays with them.

Bobby brings over some fever medication, and Max feeds it to Fang. Dean brings over an ice pack, and places it over the rib. Fang groans, squeezing Max's hand. I scan the rest of his body. I start on the gash on his stomach. It looks like a surface wound, one that will heal. Still, I clean it, and get out stitches. Max watches me fearfully. I start stitching up the wound as quickly as I can, with Fang hissing and groaning in the background. Bobby helps Max keep Fang still, and when I'm done, he's unconscious.

"Why did he pass out?!" Max cries hysterically. Dean grabs her shoulders.

"He won't feel any more pain, okay? That's good." Max nods, but her eyes are huge. Bobby leads her away, to the rest of the flock.

I feel Fang's forehead again. "He's still hot, Dean." I warn.

"Give the meds a chance to work, Sammy." Dean says, checking for head injuries.

"Should we take him to the hospital?" I ask.

Dean looks at me skeptically. "Right, cause that worked out so well last time."

I pause. "We have to get Indie and Angel."

Dean turns to me. "Can we work on one problem at a time, please?" I can see he's as upset about it as me, so I nod.

Once we have the bleeding stopped, and he looks better, Dean and I walk into the front room.

"He's okay. Or, he will be." Dean says. "He has a fever, so someone needs to put a new washcloth on his forehead about every half hour. In four hours, make sure he gets new fever and pain medication."

"Wait, wait." Nudge says. "Why are you telling us this? Where are you going to be?"

Dean and I exchange a look. "We're going to find Indie." I say.

Max stands. "I'm coming." She says.

"Me, too." Says Iggy. Nudge and Gazzy both raise their hands and start shouting.

Dean holds up a hand. "Everyone shut up!" he shouts.

Dean looks at Max. "You can't come, because I need to make sure that Fang'll be taken care of, and Bobby will need help. Beyond that, he'll need you when he wakes up."

Max looks to the kitchen. Dean turns to the rest.

"You guys can't come because we can't afford to be worrying about you in the middle of a fight, alright?" He explains simply. Iggy huffs, but doesn't argue.

Dean looks at me, and nods to the door. I nod, and walk out to the Impala. There is no way Ari is getting away with this.

"Dean," I say when he gets in the drivers side. "This time we kill him."

**Indie's P.O.V.**

Ari and Tom are talking in the front seat when Ari gets the call. We've been driving for fifteen minutes or so, and my eyelids are falling. Angels lightly dozing against my shoulder, and I have my arm around her. She woke up a few minutes ago from the sedatives, and was surprised to see me instead of Fang. I quickly explained what happened, and then she fell back asleep.

Ari slips a bluetooth over his ear, and answers the call. "Hello?" He says.

Ari listens for a moment. "Really? Well, that's fortunate, I have her with me."

Another pause. "I can do that, no problem." He hangs up the phone and takes the earpiece off. Ari pulls over.

"Sorry, Tom-boy. This arrangement isn't gonna work out." He says.

"What do you mean?" Tom asks. Ari laughs and looks down, shaking his head.

"Orders, man, gotta follow them. Apparently, that little blossom back there is needed elsewhere." He says. Meaning Angel. "You gotta find your own slave."

Tom shakes his head. "I helped you find them. That was all me. I deserve something. I'm not leaving until I get something."

Ari nods, thinking. Without warning, Ari whips out a gun. I have only enough time to cover Angels ears as tightly as I can when the _BANG_ echos throughout the car. I stare in shock at Tom's limp, dead, body. He's dead. I can see Ari laughing, and Angel desperately trying to tell me something, but all I can hear is ringing.

Ari steps out of the car, and pulls Tom's body out of the truck. He walks to the back of the truck and dumps Tom in the very back. Then he pulls a tarp over him, to keep him hidden. I frantically try the doors. I stare at Angel.

_Does your door open? _I think. She tries, and shakes her head.

Ari gets back in, and looks back at us. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. The ringing has died slightly. Enough that I can hear Angel whispering to me. I lean closer, trying to hear.

Ari gets out again, walking to my door. He opens it, grabbing my arm. He yanks me out, and slams the door again. He pulls me to the passenger seat. I whimper at the bloodstains, but Ari only snarls at me. He storms back over to the drivers seat, and recklessly starts driving again. I see him jerking the wheel around, and I have an idea.

I look at Angel in the rearview mirror. _Is your seatbelt on? _I ask. She looks at Ari, but his focus is on the road and his anger. She gives a small nod.

_Brace yourself._ I warn. Her eyes widen, but she braces her feet against the floor, and she worms one of her hands out of the bonds, and takes ahold of a handle on the ceiling. I notice that Ari isn't wearing a seatbelt. I sneak mine over my shoulder, and sit quietly for a moment.

Then, as we are turning around a bend, I lash out, grasping the steering wheel. I yank it sharply towards me, so that we spin into a ditch. The truck tumbles over and over until we settle on upright. I hear a howling next to me, and I look at Ari. My eyes widen. He's bent over backward in a totally unnatural position. His back is broken. He's paralyzed. I feel a sick sort of pleasure at the sight of his agony.

Quickly, I unbuckle myself. I wince at the aching in my head. I spot the gun on the ground. I scoop it up, keeping it away from Ari. I don't think he would be in any state to even hold a gun, but I can't be too sure. The door in the back is damaged, but I manage to wrestle it open. I reach in, and tear the gag off of Angel. She gasps out a huge breath. I rip off the bonds on her hand, and she tackles me in a huge hug. I stiffen, shocked, but then I wrap my own arms around her.

She sobs into my shoulder, and I murmur into her hair.

"Shh, Angel, it's okay, it's over." I say.

I pull her out of the truck, and we start walking away. Ari's door has been completely torn off, and he howls at us as we walk.

"I'll find you!" he screams. "Someone will! You will never escape!"

I freeze. I realize that he's right. Someone will come looking for Ari. And when they find him, he'll point them to Bobby's house. I can't let that happen. Numbly, I turn to Angel.

"Angel, I want you to wait by that tree." I point to one slightly inside the woods next to us. "Can you do that?"

Angel's eyes widen at my tone, by she goes. I grip the gun, and I walk back to Ari. He see's the gun in my hand, and despite everything, he manages to laugh.

"You'll never use that." He says.

"You're too much of a chicken." He says.

"You'll never escape me." He says.

All of the sudden, I don't see Ari's face, I see Tom's. I see the face of Jerry, Tom's boss, Michael, Tom's brother, Andrea, his sister, who all knew but never did anything to help. I raise the gun slowly. I cock the gun, the way I say Sam and Dean when they were practicing. I grip the handle with both hands, and breathe slowly. Ari babbles on, convinced I would never shoot.

_BANG. _Ari stops talking. And he never will again.

**What do you think? I had fun writing that chapter. Did you like reading it?**

**Let me know if you liked how Tom and Ari died, or if you think it would have been better a different way. I'm curious to know. **


	16. Reunited

**Chapter 16**

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I stare at Ari. He hangs limply from the seat, a neat bullet hole through his skull.

"Indie?" Angel's voice calls out. I blink and sag. It's over. All of it.

"Angel, you can come out." Angel slowly creeps out of the woods. She looks with wide eyes at Ari. She walks up to me, and clutches my hand.

"Is he dead?" She asks. I nod. I start pulling her the way we had come, away from the black truck. Angel cranes her neck to see Ari one more time.

"C'mon, Angel." I say, pulling her around to face the front. "Let's go home." 

I hesitate for a moment, and then I cut into the woods, heading for the direction of the interstate.

**Sam's P.O.V.**

I stare out the window, scanning the trees for a flash of clothes. Nothing.

"How do you know they came this way?" I ask Dean.

"This road is the quickest way to California." Dean answers. "Even if we can't beat them there, we can hopefully find them soon enough."

I glare out into the sun, feeling worry wash over me in a wave.

"Dean, Tom was in that truck." I say, and Deans knuckles tighten around the wheel. The car speeds up as he presses the pedal to the floor.

"I know." He answers grimly.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

After ten minutes of driving, I spot something up ahead.

"What the-? Dean!" I shout, leaning forward and staring in shock.

Ari's black truck is crumpled at the side of the road, smoking, but somehow upright. Dean parks a good ten feet away, and we both step out. I don't hear anyone crying or moving, and my heart clenches in fear. Dean pulls his pistol out of his jeans, and I take mine out of my jacket.

We creep towards the truck, holding the guns at the ready. I round the carnage, making my way to the drivers side. I lower my gun, staring at Ari's dead body.

"Dean." I say. I hear a rush of footsteps, and Dean comes running around the truck. He takes one look at the bullet hole in Ari's head, and spins away in disgust.

"Dean, he's dead." I say. "That's good, remember?"

Dean looks back at me, and he looks upset. "Someone had to do that, Sammy. Someone who was probably in that car."

My blood runs cold. "Tom?" I guess.

Surprisingly, Dean shakes his head. "I found _his _body in the bed of the truck."

I stare at Dean in shock, and walk to the back to see for myself. There, barely covered by the edge of the tarp, I see Tom's body. I feel a spike of satisfaction run through me. I cross back to Dean.

"Who?" I wonder.

"Who do you think?" Dean says hoarsely. "Indie."

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I pull Angel out of the woods, and step onto the side of the interstate. I stand for a moment, looking left and right. Which way is home?

I choose left, and start walking that way. Angel keeps a firm grip on my fingers.

After walking for what feels like hours, but is probably only minutes, a semi-truck pulls up next to us. It slows to a crawl, keeping up with our pace.

The window rolls down, and a man's scraggly face peers through. He looks like a smoker, and has a thin beard.

"Afternoon, Darlin's." The man says charmingly. I feel Angel stiffen beside me.

I keep walking, not giving him a glance. He keeps the truck at a steady pace beside us.

"This is no time for two young girls to be walking around alone, is it?" The man says. "Why don't you hop in?"

Anger flashes through me. Whether he meant well or not, we were making it pretty clear that we didn't want his help. And he kept pushing.

"C'mon, sweethearts, you can't keep walking out there. I can't let you do that." I feel another rush of anger.

My eyes change, and I grow fangs. A small smile ghosts my face, and then I turn to the man, giving him a clear view of the change in my face.

His eyes widen. I snarl at him. "Keep. Moving." I spit. The man pulls back into his truck, and slams his foot on the gas pedal. My face changes back to normal, and I stop for a moment, relaxing.

"He was bad news." Angel informs me. I laugh dryly, and nod.

"So I figured." I say.

Angel perks up, and I'm hit with the sudden image of a dog, with it's ears perked. I smile. Angel looks at me in excitement.

"Sam and Dean." She says. I look up and down the road eagerly, but don't see them or the Impala.

Suddenly, the black car rounds a corner and comes into view. Angel sighs in relief, and I wave my arms at them. The Impala pulls over, and they step out. I run to Dean, who's closer, and slam into him with a hug. He immediately wraps his own arms around me.

Sam rounds the Impala. He walks over to Angel, and makes sure she doesn't have any injuries. He then walks over to me, and checks me over.

"I killed him." I whisper. Sam looks at me closely.

"Indie, if you hadn't, I would have." Sam says. Dean nods.

"You did him a favor. If we had gotten to him first, I would have made him scream before he died." Dean says.

I smile evilly. "He screamed alright." I say, thinking of his broken spine. Dean closes his eyes, picturing the scene, savoring the thought.

Sam looks at us funny. "You two are…absolutely insane."

Dean elbows Sam playfully. "C'mon, Sammy, life wouldn't be much fun without me, would it?"

Sam opens the passenger seat door while Angel and I climb in the backseat. "It wouldn't be so dangerous, either."

Dean winks at us in the rearview mirror. "Ah, my brother, that's what makes life fun. The danger."

**Not quite the end. I'm going to write an epilogue. **

**Thanks for reading my story this far. I appreciate it. : )**


	17. Epilogue

**Here's the last chapter. Enjoy!**

**I'm considering writing a sequel. I have some ideas, but I'm not sure if I want to. If you want to see a sequel, let me know. Or if you have any ideas that you wouldn't mind me using, that would be great.**

**Chapter 17**

**Indie's P.O.V.**

I sit up in bed and yawn, stretching out my arms. I roll over and see Max in the bed on the other side of the room. I smile. I push back the covers, and quietly walk out the door. I creep downstairs, trying to not wake anyone up. I hear noises from the front room, so I peer in.

Fang is laughing from his position on the couch. "Just wait." He laughs. "When I get better I'm so going to kick your butt."

Dean snickers from the chair next to him. "Yeah, sure, feathers." I smile.

Three weeks have passed since Ari died. Since I killed him. The flock will be leaving soon, to head to Africa or something. They're only waiting because of Fang's snapped rib. It's almost completely healed, so they'll be leaving soon. Sam and Dean are planning to head off as well in a matter of days.

I walk into the kitchen and see Sam standing by the counter, making toast. I casually walk over to him.

"You and Dean are planning to leave in a few days, right?" I ask. Sam looks over at me and nods.

I swallow. "You know, Bobby said that it won't be too busy. He probably won't need any help around here." I say.

Sam looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. He knows what I'm doing.

"Do you think...you and Dean might, you know, need any...help?" I ask breathlessly.

Sam sighs. "Indie, I know you want to come, I just…" He trails off.

I feel tears prick my eyes. I knew that he and Dean were close. I never really expected them to let me tag along. I turn away, trying to keep the tears repressed, when I feel Sam's hand on my arm.

"Indie!" he says with concern. He pulls me back to him, and wraps me up in a hug.

"Hunting is dangerous. I don't want you getting hurt." Sam explains.

The sad feeling disappears instantly, and indignance takes it's place. I look up at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" I ask, eyebrows raised. "You think I can't take care of myself." I state.

Sam shrugs uncomfortably. I raise my eyebrows further and take a step back, crossing my arms. Sam opens his mouth desperately, looking lost.

"C'mon, Sammy, I thought you were the people person." Dean says, leaning into the room. He turns to me.

"You think you can hold your weight?" Dean asks. I nod.

He smiles. "Then you can come."

My eye widen. I stare at him. "Really?" I ask quietly. Dean nods with a smile.

I rush to him and tackle him in a hug. "Thank you so much."

Dean laughs. "Don't thank me so soon. You'll be sharing a motel room and car with two men for the rest of your life."

I sigh. "I think I can deal with it."

Sam walks over to us, and places a hand on my shoulder. "I sure hope so."

**Three Days Later**

I stare out the window in the backseat of the Impala, waving to Bobby and the flock. I feel giddy. Sam, Dean, and I are heading to Minnesota to check out a possible hunt. I doubt that they'll let me help take the thing down, but at least I'll be doing something.

I watch the two hunters in the front seat laughing and shoving each other, and a smile grows on my face.

Finally, I feel completely free. I have a family. I'm a hunter.

I am Indie. And no one will ever stand in my way again.

**That's the end. I really hope you liked my story. Tell me if you think the ending was a little rushed. I'm really sorry it took so long to post. The endings are the hardest part to write for me. **

**I'm considering writing a sequel to this story. I have a few ideas, and if you want to see a sequel, or have some ideas you want to share, please feel free to tell me. I have another idea for a completely unrelated story that I want to write, so I probably won't write the sequel until that one's finished.**

**Thanks again! **


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